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Janus

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  1. Janus

    I Built Myself A Life

    By Janus,

    Do I still love you? Absolutely. There's not a doubt in my mind. Through all my anger, my ego...I was always faithful in my love for you. That I made you doubt it...That is a great mistake of a life full of mistakes. The truth doesn't set us free, Robin. I can tell you I love you...As many times as you can stand to hear it...And all that does, the only thing...Is remind us...Love is not enough. Not even close.
     
    It's a powerful message, and one I agree with entirely.
     
    For those of you interested, the movie is Life as a House, and it's heartbreaking.
  2. Janus

    I Wanna Be Sedated

    By Janus,

    (20)
     
    It is DONE.
     
    And with this the summary of my time off last week is basically complete.
     
    I was on various fun things that caused me to have dulled...everything.
     
    SO READ ON AND FIND OUT.
     
    Word count: 820
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    I wanna be sedated 
    Well, after all the fun I'd had not a day ago (See: The Joy of Painkillers for more information) I quickly figured out how to actually ingest a painkiller. Oh the fun.
     
    It wasn't that bad, actually. In fact if I avoided biting into them then the disgusting taste was barely present. They went down just like any other vitamin.
     
    However, as I got used to my little routine of swallowing a painkiller in the morning, a painkiller at lunch, and a painkiller later in the night...I was unaware of the fun that lurked for me in the future.
     
    You see, I had conveniently forgotten about the prescription my dentist had written for me. Why? Because quite simply, he told me as he began to jot out the various pills I'd need to be taking:
    "I'll write you a prescription for an antibiotic to help your gum heal, and I'll give you some Advil to help the pain. However I'll also give you a prescription for Tylenol threes. They have a sedative in them."
     
    Now for those of you who actually know what I do. you will know this is the antithesis of what I need--for those of you who don't. You need to stalk me more effectively.
     
    I kid, of course. I am a Martial Arts instructor--you can see how well that would match up with taking a sedative. The answer, in case you are wondering, is not at all.
     
    And so I simply 'forgot' about my prescription. Or rather, I misinterpreted it. I believed rather foolishly that my dentist had written me two prescriptions--one for a painkiller WITH sedative and one for a painkiller WITHOUT sedative. I was dumb.
     
    Unfortunately it was my very own dear mother who realized what a putz I was. She very quickly informed me of the fact that I had only one painkiller prescription and that I would have to take a sedative--what fun.
     
    And so it was that one I came home and two pill bottles rested on top of the counter, almost innocent in their commonality. Of course they contained the things I really wasn't eager to be taking.
     
    "This one is your antibiotic" My mother dearest explained, indicating the bottle with MASSIVE pills inside. I mean pills that were bigger than skittles. It was terrifying.
    "You'll need to take these three times a day."
     
    Joy.
     
    Then of course she picked up the second bottle and told me that it was my painkillers--and that while the Advil was good for me for quick pain (and indeed, the non liqui-gel stuff actually tasted kind of skittlely on the way down. Mmmm) the Tylenol is what I would need for big pain--so I'd best take it at lunch and allow the painkiller to run its course.
     
    I complied.
     
    Getting myself some food I downed the painkiller, it was easier to swallow than the antibiotic or the liqui-gel capsules before it. However I didn't really feel much different.
     
    "Hum" I thought to myself "Perhaps it takes some time to take effect. After all, even the so-called fast acting advil took about ten-fifteen minutes to activate and dull my pain"
     
    And so I waited.
     
    And waited.
     
    I mulled various thoughts in my head as I surfed the internet, waiting for my supposed sedative to take effect. I mean, the pain was dulled but that could have been after-effect from the advil I had taken that morning. Where was my sedation?
     
    I frowned and continued to surf the internet listlessly.
     
    Then, following a request from my father (and upon realizing that I needed to put my dirty dishes in the wash) I made my way to the kitchen.
     
    Or rather, I attempted to.
     
    You see, my legs appeared to be stuck fast to the ground, and in no apparent hurry to move elsewhere. However I being a Black Belt, knew how to force my way past such menial things and heaved myself from the chair.
     
    To say that I did a nose dive isn't entirely accurate. I began to fall into a nose dive, however quick thinking avoided such a fate and I fell rather heavily into my chair with a
    "Whuuuuuh" sound.
     
    My father made a comment from the kitchen about my inherent wussiness to sedatives. I ignored him and attempted to stop my head from spinning.
     
    To sum it all up, sedatives are not fun, but they're also not entirely what you expect.
     
    Sedatives dull the senses and make you freaking TIRED. I would have gladly slept for HOURS with that dang thing in my system--so for those of you who have not yet experienced the so-called 'buzz' that these painkillers can give off...that's basically it.
     
    You get really, really tired.
     
    So basically you can get the same feeling from staying up really, really late.
     
    Which I do anyhow.
     
    I think I'll stick to that, sedatives suck.
     
  3. Janus

    Atlantia

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE! (13) 
    I'm not sure where the inspiration for this one came from. Perhaps it was the fact that as I left the office today the sun had burned away the morning mist and left only beautiful blue sky with a brilliant sun shining down. Of course the fact that my music swelled at that exact moment could have also helped.
     
    Regardless, the entire originating point of this story comes about midway through. See if you can find it!
     
    Anyhow, as usual, gimme challenges and stuff. C'mon guys D=
     
    Enjoy!
     

    Atlantia 
    Light streamed through the trees and dappled the rough soil with a menagerie of colours, had it been any other moment he would have stopped to savour the beauty of the moment. He would have removed the tough sneakers from his feet and allowed his skin to enjoy the moistness of the damp ground, he would have stretched his back up against the rough bark of a tree and basked in the marbled light that shone on the ground.
     
    Instead he ran on, forcing his tired beyond its limits and being rewarded with the pain of aching muscles. He doubled over, gasping for breath and feeling the ragged jets of hot air blasting from his throat and into the cold, crisp air. He waited there for less than a minute, then ponderously moved his leaden muscles and forced himself deeper and deeper into the wood.
     
    The young man’s name was Elliot, a sandy-haired youth full of exuberance and an adventurous spirit—which was what brought him to the woods bordering his town. Elliot was born in a small backwater town, so tiny and so relatively unknown that he thought it didn’t even deserve a name. In fact the boy refused to refer to his hometown by name, instead he derisively called it “Nowherever.” He picked his rather unique name because he felt the town was simply nowhere, not deserving of any particular title—and because he felt that despite all of his efforts, he would be trapped there forever.
     
    Elliot had always been a dreamer and a creative spirit. He had a record of getting into trouble with various other residents of the town, because of his outspoken beliefs…or, to be more specific, his belief in things of old. In his youthful explorations Elliot had come across a multitude of strange and fascinating things, oddly shaped lines that bordered the town, strange lights that could be seen cresting the mountains all around, even mysterious writing on ancient stone. This things captured his imagination and drove his curiousity to its limit. It wasn’t long before the young Elliot had begun to find books dealing with mythology, with ancient and powerful magic…and the various disconnected events around the town finally made sense.
     
    It was that epiphany that had him running full tilt through the woods, mindful of the many dips and ravines, not minding the swinging branches and nettles that brought tears to his eyes or cut him. It was that epiphany that had him force past all of these obstacles and distractions deeper and deeper into the woods, far deeper than he had ever been.
     
    He passed the ruinous stones that he was certain had once been a tunnel, passed the borderlines that marked the edge of protected territory, and continued to run. The trees and shrubbery becoming nothing more than a mottled view in the corner of his vision, he was wholly focused on his end destination.
     
    It was sudden, the way his foot suddenly felt resistance, the way his centre of balance gradually shifted from vertical to horizontal, the way one moment he was flying through the woods as though he were Hermes of the winged sandals…and the next he was lying face down in the dirt. He sneezed angrily and tried to force himself up, his arms shaking with the effort it took and his body protesting every moment. Finally, after various failed attempts, the young man was able to heave his tired body off of the ground and roll his body over, laying down flat on his back, unmindful of the dirt now clinging to his hair.
     
    He breathed heavily, watching the slight cloud that formed, and attempted to move his foot. Pain shot through it, not terrible or unbeatable pain, but pain nonetheless. He sighed and propped himself into a sitting position to examine the damage. Elliot’s eyes widened as he looked down…he had tripped and twisted his ankle quite badly but that wasn’t what drew his attention, no, it was the piece of stone he had tripped on.
     
    It was slightly larger than his fist, brilliant blue, and almost luminescent. However it was the ornate carvings in the stone that attracted him. Shifting himself into a more comfortable position he reached down to heave it from the earth and found it stuck fast. He grunted with frustration and tired again, using all of the effort that remained in him. Instead his hands slipped from the cold stone and he was sent to the ground, arms flailing.
     
    Pushing himself rather angrily from the sodden earth, Elliot changed his tactics, grabbing a large dull grey stone from the earth he began to hack at the ground surrounding the stone. He didn’t care about the dirt and grime that was now smeared across his face and clothes, didn’t care about the large fragments of earth that he was displacing, all he cared about was the fact that the more he drove his stone into the earth the more of the blue stone he revealed.
    “In fact” Elliot thought to himself “This is more than just a stone…” dropping his own stone-turned-tool he began to dig furiously through the loosened earth with his bare hands, his fingers scrabbling across the hard, smooth, and somewhat warm surface of the strange stone.
     
    Moments later he was rewarded for his efforts when his fingers scraped painfully against more stone, this time lying flat. Removing his now bleeding hand from the hole he had dug, Elliot peered in. It was exactly as he had expected, the stone stretched out further…it wasn’t just a stone, it was either a complete layer of strata, or some sort of strange dais…and given all that Elliot had learned recently, he wouldn’t have been surprised by either.
     
    He thought of taking out the small leather bound journal that was fit snugly in his breast pocket, but decided against it. He wouldn’t take it out until he had reached the end of the wood. Gingerly raising himself to his feet he hesitantly took a step forward, and discovered that while painful it was in fact livable. Smiling somewhat grimly to himself he set out deeper into the wood at a much decreased pace.
     
    Finally he could see it, see the light glowing brightly behind the last few remaining trees. He could hear the tranquil sounds of the sea all around him, and could even smell the harsh smell of Salt Water…he was almost there. He was mindful of the border lines all about this area, making sure to step around their intricate designs rather than risk removing whatever power they contained.
     
    Then, suddenly, the greenery vanished and he was standing at the edge of a peak that overlooked the ocean. He glanced down to check the colour of the rock and was unsurprised to find that while the stone itself was the standard dark grey, there were rivulets of crystalline blue running through it. He caught himself, although interesting, the stone wasn’t why he was here.
     
    He moved his head slowly, a gentle incline upwards. His eyes strained for a moment, the brightness of the sun causing them to work harder than they had to previously in the dark wood—then he saw it, though it was miles and miles out to sea, he still saw it.
     
    It must have been at least one hundred stories high, a massive silver apparatus that exited seamlessly from the waves below, golden light seeming to shine all around it. Elliot sat down slowly, breathlessly, and simply watched the waves roll in the ocean, and watched the monolithic tower stand as it had always stood. After a brief moment he found the journal in his pocket and slowly opened it, mindful of the symbol that had been etched into the front.
     
    He had read it all before, his eyes pouring over the transcripts contained within, but somehow he had never grown tired of it, never grown accustomed to the strange truths that were written in its pages. He flipped to a page, which, like the rest of the journal, bore no date. On it was a rough pencil sketching of the very crag on which he stood, and a detailed and labeled diagram of the tower that stood in the distance.
     
    The tower, so said the journal, was an enormous solar collector. The central spire being connected deep beneath the waves, and the golden light simply being the reflection of countless solar panels absorbing the light. In fact, Elliot thought it must have been the largest solar collector in the world, a genuine man-made wonder that the world over would be in awe of. However he knew before he flipped the page over why that would never be.
     
    His eyes darted from the page to the tower and returned to the page, following the diagram of the incredibly massive central tower and its eventual connection to its place of origin. He read the word in his mind, finding his breath catching in his throat as he did so. He studied the architecture of the buildings, somehow so modern and yet so ancient all at once, then he closed the journal, placing it down upon the warm stone beside him.
     
    His mind raced furiously as he sat there quietly; somehow within him he had always known there was truth to the words written in the journal, but he had never expected to witness it with his own eyes. To be staring at the solar collector that had been made hundreds-of-thousands of years ago, to be stumbling upon ruins of ancient technology and magic, both woven together intricately. It was unbelievable.
     
    He began to piece together what pieces he had gleaned from the journal and from his own findings, fitting everything together in his mind and forming a picture of what had happened—and was still happening today.
     
    It was centuries ago when they had decided that the peoples of the world were too deeply rooted in hatred and war. Centuries ago when the nation as a whole had decided that the world was not yet ready for the gifts they offered—yet to seal its borders and become isolated presented the risk of causing war to break out amongst the rest of the world.
     
    Instead they had decided to mask their departure with a false calamity, a display that hubris topples even the mightiest mountain…but how to pull of such a ploy? They sent scouts into any location near them and at last they found it, a location that would allow them to set forth their plans. It was his very own “Nowherever.”
     
    With the scouts called back they began sending in scientists, mages, and even a select few of the royal family who had chosen to stay behind. With their combined wealth and power they began to erect the temples and carve the runes and border lines that Elliot had become so accustomed to seeing. Then, with the task complete they destroyed the temples and left them as nothing more than ruins in the deep forest.
     
    The runes were apparently to seal the town the forest, to make it impossible to enter. Somehow anyone entering would always find themselves feeling ill it they stayed too long, only those born of the proper heritage and marked would be able to make it inside without feeling the adverse effects. The border lines, on the other hand were for a completely different purpose, they, along with the magic that had once been contained in the temples managed to create a field that shielded the massive solar array from view. Anyone viewing this area from the air, or even from the ocean itself, would be unable to see anything but the rolling waves. Only someone who had crossed the border lines would be able to see the array—and only one set of border lines existed that could be crossed. The ones just prior to the ledge that Elliot was standing on.
     
    With all those preparations made, the plan was finally set into motion and the great continent sunk beneath the waves never to be seen again. The gargantuan solar array collecting all the energy they needed to run their various life sustaining systems.
     
    Elliot sighed leaned back against the warm stone. He had already pieced together the fact that he was born of proper lineage, otherwise he would have been unable to cross the forest barrier without incident. In fact he imagined that one day his mother would have taken him and shown him the jewel of the royal family as was described in the small leather bound journal.
     
    He found it funny, though, how the scientists had been unable to let go of their proud traditions, even naming the new colony after the fallen homeland over which they kept silent vigil. He was certain that one day it would rise again, though whether it would be in his lifetime was unknown, all he knew is that it would rise again.
     
    Atlantis would rise again.
     
    Word Count: 2,169
  4. Janus

    Chronology

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE 2.0 (8) 
    Well I missed two days last week, one of them was because of a testing at our academy (Which I had to judge for) and the second of which was I was lazy and making excuses. Seriously people, bug me if you want stories.
     
    Is this short? Oh yes. Did I have to literally grind this one of out my brain? OH YES.
     
    But it's done now. Now I can stop worrying about it.
     
    Wordcount: 418
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    Chronology 
    How then to describe it; the silvery craft that gently flowed through the air? It was sleek and smooth, vaguely oblong with a large protrusion towards the back of the craft. Or at least that’s all that I could see…it was distorted and distended, as though I was viewing it through some sort of inverted lense.
     
    The air around the craft seemed almost liquid like, waves of…something radiating off from its smooth silver hull. It stayed there in the air for the briefest of instants, hovering there and causing the air to ripple in a way that I’d never seen.
     
    Then it turned, its brilliant fuselage somehow not seeming to move…so much as simply appearing in a new place. From its new position I could see that two large sweeping wings emerged from the silvery hull. I marveled at this amazing sight before, this machine that seemed more organic that technological, this incredible wonder that floated in the sky and yet was unaffected by the suns rays. Somehow the silvery sheen of the craft was light internally—no beam of sunlight reflected off the marvelous thing.
     
    And then all at once it was gone. It did not streak off in a ray of light, it did not loop around in the sky and vanish in a flash of light. It simply wasn’t there anymore.
     
    I lowered the hand that had been shielding my eyes and simply gazed into the sky…
     
     
    How then to describe it; the land below me that stretched abundantly outward?
     
    Boring, quite frankly.
     
    It was a veritable plain of nothingness—and the miniscule matchsticks that they must have called ‘skyscrapers’ were but the things of a race in its childhood. My vessel remained temporarily frozen in this primitive time, having been flung from the deeper time space and down into this trickling stream…a time from the past.
     
    I grunted irately, taking note of the gawking faces below me. It was amazing that these people thought my ship was such a marvel—I mean I barely tolerated the lumbering hulk myself. It got me to the store and back, but it certainly wasn’t one of the more fuel efficient chronal-hoppers.
     
    Frustrated, I kicked a bulkhead—causing my ship to blink into temporal space and immediately outwards again…same time period, just a different direction.
     
    I sighed.
    “Great, just what I need”
     
    Then of course I realized I’d left it in neutral, and, mentally kicking myself sped out of that time period and back into the time stream.
     
  5. Janus

    Feeler

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE! (10) 
    Okay, this is a big occasion for me, I must admit. I hadn't even thought of until now, but It is a gigantic thing for me to say that FOR SCIENCE! has now reached the double digits. For me that is a momentous occasion.
     
    However I'm sure that some of you are quite displeased with this being late, so it's time that I explained. Every Thursday night I go to a seminar in downtown Vancouver, this is quite a distance from my native White Rock and thus I end up getitng home incredibly late, usually around 11:30
     
    Now normally this would be no problem, in fact I find I write best late at night, however, upon realizing that I would be coming home so late I began to write my story on the bus (yes, write, as in using paper and pen) and had about 946 words or so before I got home.
     
    The problem was this, this story creeps me out, like, quite a bit. It's certainly not the most horrific story I've ever written, and it's quite rough in places, but the whole idea is just very creepy to me...and additionally in my minds eye I was seeing this story taking place in my home. So at about 12:55 I called it quits because I actually wanted to sleep last night.
     
    But here you go, the first story of Friday, the second will be updated when the votes are cast.
     
    Speaking of votes, because all of you suck, that means we only have two suggestions for this week (and the week before, and the week before).
     
    bio djinnie: Also, how about a story involving Furbies, Death-rays, and an ancient orginization of ninjas?
     
    Bossman: Write a 4,000 word essay on the topic of your choosing without using a single pronoun.
     
    At this time no new suggestions are accepted. Please vote on one of these two suggestions for my 4,000 page story.
     
    Anyhow, if you're weak of stomach don't read this one. If you're twisted, like me, then please feel free.
     
    Enjoy!
     

    Feeler 
    I first heard the voice when I was alone in the bathroom and getting ready for bed. I was washing my face and oblivious to the world around me; all I was aware of was the rough feeling of the damp cloth on my skin, and the rushing water pouring from the faucet.
     
    Then there was some sort of shifting, grinding sound—the sort that drags and catches, the sort that has that slight metallic scream that rings inside of your head. I sighed and reached down, gripping the tap handle and feeling the slightly warm metal in my hands. Then, with a sudden motion I twisted the knob and cut the flow of water. We’d been having too many problems with our water supply, things ranging from supply, to temperature, and disgustingly enough…even cleanliness. I wasn’t about to have the water turn putrid on me now.
     
    I replaced the damp face cloth on the ledge of the sink carefully and listened to the remaining water work its way through the pipes…I had always loved to listen to water in its various forms: From a burbling creek to a torrential rain, even just the simple pleasure of hearing the sounds it made as it drained down the porcelain sink and into the labyrinth of pipes below.
     
    With that complete I studied my reflection in the slightly dirty mirror, noting the gentle curve of my jaw and being pleased by my sparkling green eyes. However I also noted with displeasure my disheveled hair, and a single large zit forming directly where my ear met the skin of my face. I sighed and idly poked it with my finger, as if trying to push it back beneath my skin.
     
    Unable to do anything about the unsightly visage of the zit, I instead reached for a comb to remedy my hair; that’s when I heard it, hissing and bubbling but still somehow with a faint metallic tinge. It made my stomach turn just listening to it. I glanced around the enclosed space of the bathroom, attempting in vain to catch sight of whatever was making the horrid noise, but was unable to find anything. Worse yet, though the sound was putrid enough, I found that when I listened carefully enough (in an attempt to find out if yet another thing had gone wrong with our water) I heard what sounded like words… or rather, one single word. Whatever it was it was…speaking…continually repeating one word over and over, slowly dragging out the syllables in a rasping and horrific manner.
    “Sarah.” My name.
     
    Unconsciously I dropped the comb, all thoughts of appearance and beauty banished from my mind as the sickening sound continued. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the comb contacted the white porcelain of the sink with an almost melodic sound, and the terrible illusion was shattered.
     
    I say it was an illusion, because it wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to me. For all of my sixteen years on this earth, thirteen had been plagued with horrific imaginings of life unseen, hallucinations that encroached upon my mind. It wasn’t that I enjoyed frightening myself, but that somehow my subconscious literally craved that feeling…or at least that’s what my therapist had told me. I wasn’t sure I fully understood… something about adrenaline.
     
    I put the incident from my mind and prepared for a restless night—usually when a single hallucination occurred it meant that several more were to follow. Regardless I decided it was best if I took the medicine I had been prescribed. I was supposed to use it just this sort of situation, whenever a strange or frightening hallucination occurred, my doctor said
    “When anything happens that you know cannot be real” I was supposed to take it…apparently it would dull my senses and make it easier to sleep…but I doubted anything would be able to stop the nightmares that would be coming.
     
    I sighed wearily, allowing myself to focus on reality, and gingerly picked up the medicine bottle; reading over the instructions as rapidly as possible. I groaned mentally…it needed to be taken with water.
     
    I battled myself for a period of about 30 seconds, fighting with myself as to whether to risk the night terrors that would surely raise me from my sleep, or attempt to use this pacifier, and risk the return of the water…thing. Finally my rational side won over and I popped the lid of the small container, drawing out a single tablet and placing it on the side of the counter. With that done I grabbed my glass and looked tremulously at the empty sink. I could do this.
     
    Finally I reluctantly gripped the now cold metal of the knob, turning it almost violently, and watching warily as the clear water filled my glass. With a shaking hand I held onto the knob and gently eased the pressure down. Then I stared at my glass laying in the sink as though it would burble my name again—though I have to admit, the idea of my glass of water speaking to me brought a grin to my face, instead of a shudder of fear. With that done I took my pill and walked sleepily to my bed, where I quickly fell asleep.
     
    I didn’t know what time it was when I woke up from my dreamless slumber, my head groggy from the hard work of producing nothing. Breathing in deeply I allowed my head to loll to the side placidly, my eyes tiredly scanning over the illuminated numbers on my alarm clock…it was 11:30 PM. Somehow I’d only managed to sleep for an hour and a half.
     
    I grimaced and rolled back over, feeling the comforting warmth of my blankets wrapped all around me. Only and hour and a half? That was unheard of, even without these supposedly calming drugs I had always slept soundly.
    “In fact” I thought wryly, “It’s always a pain to get me to wake up”
     
    I felt my mouth turn to a frown, as my mind, gradually recovering its acuity, began to grind into action; pondering the reasons for my strange awakening. All sorts of strange and disjointed thoughts whirled around in my head, but gradually, gradually the chaos ceased and my mind settled only on known facts. A simple base would allow a more precise answer, I thought to myself tiredly.
     
    It was in that space of mental clarity that I finally heard it, before it had been hidden by the electric buzz of my alarm clock, by the rustling of my sheets as I shifted, by my dulled senses. But now I could clearly hear it, the steady rush of water splashing loudly; the echo reverberating repeatedly in the enclosed space of the bathroom. Even in my clear state of mind, however, I was unable to come up with a reason for why the faucet would be running at this hour. After all, I knew well that both my parents had long since retired for the night. I willed my mind into action, attempting to force it to take these disparate pieces of information and somehow make them make sense. Anything, anything except the fact that the drugs had failed, that I was trapped in a horrific hallucination—or that I was still asleep.
     
    Finally my struggling brain seized upon an idea: My father, being occasionally absentminded, must have simply left the tap running by mistake when he went to bed. That made sense.
     
    Unfortunately it didn’t fix the problem, the rapidly rushing water was not only wasteful, but there was no way I’d be able to sleep with the sound—not only was it distractingly loud, but it also summoned disturbing memories from earlier this night. I groaned pitifully and with the slow, ponderous movements of someone woken reluctantly, I raised my tired body from underneath the warm covers and walked haphazardly to the bathroom.
     
    Yawning tiredly I flicked the light switch, and, covering my eyes to protect them from the harsh light that spilled out, reached blindly toward the sink. Grabbing hold of the hard wooden counter, I gently eased my eyes open so that I could stop the water’s relentless stream.
     
    I blinked. Then I blinked again. The faucet wasn’t turned on, there was no water pouring out of it at all…but I had heard it, I was sure of it. I shook my head as if to clear it of any lingering dreams and then walked slowly to the kitchen, checking the faucet there as well. It too lay silent.
     
    I had turned my back on the darkened kitchen when I heard it.
    “Saaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaahhhhhhh” It made my blood run cold and a violent shiver start at the base of my spine and go through my entire body. I pivoted to face the empty kitchen and could hear that strange grinding sound from earlier…but the voice was gone. Frightened I turned on the light and walked slowly into the kitchen, my entire body now alive with real fear.
     
    I thought I saw something and whirled to face the sink, watching as a small, wriggling tendril disappeared through the drain. I shuddered violently, I’d heard the stories of snakes and other such things coming up through drains or toilets. That must have been all it was, maybe I’d just caught the tail end of a snake wriggling its way through the pipes—a very thin, almost gelatinous snake…
     
    “Ssssssssaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh” This time it was coming from the bathroom, somehow sounding even creepier as it echoed down the empty hallway. I caught myself hyperventilating and slumped against the wall, willing this away, willing this horrid hallucination to leave me be. Instead it persisted in calling my name beckoning me.
     
    I thought, in a moment of panic, to go to my parents, to wake them up, beg them to check the pipes for monstrosities…but that thought was fleeting. I knew my parents wouldn’t want that, they’d been dealing with my hallucinations long enough, I couldn’t wake them up just because I was panicking. No, I had to confront this head on, I had to be unafraid. Unfortunately I was terrified.
     
    With trembling legs, I pushed myself forward, willing myself to walk to the bathroom, from where the horrible voice emanated. I walked slowly, as if drugged, dragging my feet as I moved and feeling the rough carpet across my skin. Why couldn’t this just stop? I paused, I had left the light on in the bathroom, I was sure of it…but somehow the light was off again. I reached for it, my arm moving as if reaching through molasses.
    “Ssssssssssaaaaaaarrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh” It sighed again, then, something new “Dddddooooooooonnnnnn’t”
     
    Something clicked in my brain, of course, every time I had turned on a light this thing had disappeared. That was the solution, it might not stop the hallucination, but it would give me an advantage over it. After all, I had no choice but to play the game, I may as well use it to my advantage.
     
    With a quick motion I flicked the light switch, now seeing the little tendril waving around in the sink. Then, without a backward glance I sprinted towards the kitchen to turn on that light as well. The thing, whatever it was, gave out a shriek as it was blocked from entering either drain. Now all I had to do was wait until the morning when I could talk with my therapist, I was triumphant.
    “Ssssssssaaaaaaaaaarrrrrraaaaaaaahhhhhhh”
     
    I whirled around; my hair moving crazily about my face. Where had it come from? I had turned on the lights in the bathroom and the kitchen…there was no place for it come up.
    “Sssssssssssaaaaaaaarrrrraaaaaaaahhhhh” I realized with dawning horror that there was one more sink in the house—my parent’s bathroom. I attempted to resist, attempted to just go back to bed and forget all of this…but something held me, something made me stay. I’d explain to my parent’s the intensity of this hallucination and they’d surely understand, maybe they’d get me a better prescription too. Yes, this would work.
     
    I knocked hesitantly on their door, hearing nothing from within. Then I heard it and a wave of revulsion passed through me, I could almost feel it through the door somehow.
    “Sssssssaaaaaaarrrrraaaaaaaahhhhhh” I shuddered and pushed open the door, pausing a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness. When that had passed I glanced around the warm room…my parent’s weren’t in bed. There was the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, and I caught a glimpse of my dad moving around. I’d just go talk to him, we’d figure this out together.
     
    I’m not sure when I realized something was wrong. Maybe it was when I became aware of the fact that my dad wasn’t washing his hands, or doing anything, really. He was just standing there in the darkened bathroom with the water running.
    “Dad…?” I called questioningly, and almost instantaneously he turned to look at me, I expected to see confusion in his eyes, maybe for him to rationalize what was going on, to say.
    “Oh, hey sprout, I must have zoned out for a bit there” but instead I saw something that caught my gag reflex. My father’s eyes were rolled up in his head, only the milky whites of them shining in the darkness…his entire body was slouched, as though exhausted, and I now noticed that his skin was pasty white and covered in sweat. He opened his mouth
    “Sssssaaaaaaaaarrrrrrraaaaaahhhhhh”
     
    I screamed, I screamed and screamed and screamed, attempting to lunge from the room when I felt a vice grip around my ankle. My father had fallen on the ground and was gripping my tightly—and that’s when I saw the small tendrils that had attached themselves to his spine, the tendrils that pulsed and spread across his back. I forced myself to keep moving, dragging my body slowly forward—amazingly enough my father—or rather, that thing controlling my father, didn’t make any move to pull me back, instead he…it…just remained with the vice grip on my ankle.
     
    There was a resounding, and sickening snap and my father’s hand went limp, freeing me to move again. I turned, concerned I had broken his hand but instead I saw that the tendrils that had once reached from the sink and into his back had each split in two, with the still waving tendrils retreating into the sink. Had I hurt it?
     
    That’s when I saw it, the tendrils still attached my father’s back began to shudder and pulse violently, burrowing themselves deeper and deeper into his skin until all that could be seen was a series of angry red welts across his back. I realized now that this was no hallucination with the same certainty that I realized my father was dead…and likely my mother as well.
     
    Shaking violently I walked from the room, pausing only when I heard that shifting, grinding sound. Like an enormous stone being moved, slowly scraping across something. I knew it wouldn’t leave me alone.
    “Ssssssssssaaaaaaarrrrrrraaaaaaaahhhhh” it called, and this time I could hear it from each sink, that disgusting voice filling my entire house.
     
    And somehow it came to me, somehow I remembered my teacher telling me years and years ago. Somehow in that moment of absolute horror I remembered her voice
    “The human body is actually composed of about 80% water, you know?” The thing in the sink was just a feeler, drawing in its victims…until it could use them as incubators. That’s what had become of my parents.
     
    I don’t know what happened next, I truthfully don’t. I simply remembering waking up screaming, a torrential downpour soaking me as I ran down the road. I could still hear it, though, I could still each of those drops whispering my name.
     
    The police caught up with me after it was discovered I was missing. It wasn’t hard for them to, after all, people on the street were quick to report a crazed, disheveled girl who ran through city attempting to flee something unseen. They took me to the mental health ward.
     
    I went through meeting after meeting, test after test. They had come to the conclusion that my parent’s unexplained deaths had simply driven me over the edge. I was given all sorts of different drugs in order to calm me down, in order to float me on that euphoric state of absolute nothingness. None of it worked for long, the numbness would fade and I would come back and the terror would return.
     
    It would return because every night I went to sleep I could hear it. Curled up tight in my blankets with my eyes clamped shut I could still hear it, I could hear the water burbling merrily from my private bathroom, I could hear the pipes creaking as water was forced through them. But most of all I could it whispering my name every night. Whispering
    “Ssssssssaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrraaaaaaaahhhhh”
     
    Word Count: 2,834
  6. Janus

    White

    By Janus,

    13
     
    You have no idea how long I have been trying to upload this blasted story.
     
    I finished it at...oh, about 12:04 AM this morning, and found that BZP's server was dead. So instead of waiting and struggling for an hour (Oh wait, I did do that) I went to bed. I awoke and tried to post it again and found that while the FORUMS were operational, all BLOGS were dead. Oh, unending fury.
     
    SO at last I managed to get this story uploaded and I am happy.
     
    It's a thought I've had multiple times while flying, by the way. Inordinately creepy, but a common thought of mine nonetheless.
     
    Word count: 1,491
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    White 
    People milled all around me, eyes averted and eyes focused down the end of the cavernous passage; beneath me the ‘fast track’ path ground slowly toward my eventual destination. I was in no hurry, instead I allowed myself to relax languidly against the moving track and simply let it take me to where I wanted to go.
     
    Every once in a while people would pass me, their expressions varying from irritation to exhaustion—everyone in this place was in such a hurry it seemed. Pilots and stewardesses bustled in and out of crowds, security agents clothed in crisp white silently watched from their posts—or walked briskly to their destinations. And then of course there were the passengers: Throngs of people all desperate to get to their own destination and all more than willing to do whatever it took to get there. I gazed around at the sea of faces around me, noting the heavy looking carry-on bags that some people carried I rolled my eyes, clearly that’s why they looked so tired.
     
    Now me? I wouldn’t ever be that silly. No, instead I always arrived with more than enough time to spare, I didn’t want to rush or bustle. I didn’t want to panic or exhaust myself searching around the labyrinthine airport.
     
    I smiled as I arrived at the end of the moving track, hoisting my light bag over my shoulder and setting off at an easy pace. I kept my eyes up and focused, ignoring the thousands of people on either side of me—just as they ignored me. It was a mutual ignoring. However the important thing was that I kept my eyes open and I remained aware of where I was at all times, carefully studying the clean white signs placed around the bustling airport. Within a short matter of minutes I had arrived at my destination.
     
    I entered the roughly circular room, taking note of all the various different exit gates in rapid succession. Then, as soon as I had ascertained the location of my gate, I allowed my gaze to drift higher and take in the gorgeous view afforded to me and my fellow passengers by the nearly 360 degree ceiling high glass walls.
     
    It was truly a magnificent day outside—a perfect day for flying. The few clouds in the sky were white and fluffy, drifting leisurely through the sky. The sun was out in full force, its rays shining down on the tarmac and the aircraft assembled there, so bright was it that the luminous glare simply became a white blur in my eyes. It was almost painful to look at.
     
    Blinking and shaking my head to clear the remainder of the brilliance from them, I carefully found myself a seat and sat down to wait. Then, almost as soon as I was seated, I removed a small book from my bag, a fiction I’d been attempting to finish for the past few weeks. I flipped through the pages until I found my landmark, but found that the glare from the sun was brighter than I expected. Even my book’s pages seemed much more brilliant than before, approaching a nearly white sheen.
     
    I groaned internally and rubbed my eyes. Clearly I wasn’t going to be able to read any time soon. Instead I replaced the book in my bag and settled off to a light nap, leaning back in the seat and allowing the comfortable blackness of sleep to take me.
     
    I awoke to the slightly reverberating twang of an airline employee on the intercom. I glanced tiredly at my watch, and then at the main desk for my gate.
    “We will now begin general boarding for slight UA7643.” The young man said, indicating where exactly we should form our boarding line. I felt the slightest twinge of panic rise within me...I had completely slept through the pre-boarding! I could have missed my flight!
     
    I felt the prickles of fear threatening to rise and overwhelm my sense and forced them back, lifting myself from the seat as I did so. Then, while I appealed to my logical side to drown out the irrational fear, I slowly slid into line, my face emotionless.
     
    To say that the line went quickly would be somewhat of an overstatement. It didn’t exactly fly, nor did it crawl. It must moved along at its own leisurely pace—allowing me plenty of time to learn how best to avoid the bright beams of sunlight that threatened to turn my vision into nothing but a brilliant white expanse. In fact doing this helped to keep myself calm…to soothe the savage beast so-to-speak.
     
    When at last it was my turn to hand in my passport and deal with the smiling young man I found that my fear had completely evaporated—in part due to my own management, and in part due to the fact that I was clearly going to be onboard the flight. I returned his smile and retrieved my passport, setting off down the boarding hallway.
     
    Upon boarding the aircraft and double checking my boarding pass, I found myself fortunate enough to receive a window seat. A small smile briefly graced my face, and then I had seated myself and safely stowed my luggage. Shortly after I watched vacantly as the stewardesses went through the usual show and dance about aircraft safety—however it was at this time that I realized what good fortune I really had. Not only was I lucky enough to receive a window seat—but a window seat with nobody else in the adjoining seats! I was all by myself in an entire row of seats. How wonderful.
     
    The flight passed without even the slightest bit of interference—not even a pocket of turbulence disturbed the aircraft as it made its way through the skies. In fact the flight was as close to perfect as it could have ever been, from my comfortable row I saw mountains and rivers, lakes and cities, great plains of green and jagged peaks of ice. I saw gorgeous scenes stretch below me and I drank in every minute of it.
     
    However as is the way of the world, all good things must come to an end. The announcement came on the loudspeakers that we would be landing shortly and the craft began its gradual decline. I turned away from the window and leaned my head on the hard plastic that made up its surroundings. I had just begun to relax when I heard something strange. Sort of a “zzzt!” sound, like what we all imagine an electric shock sounds like. Opening my eyes slowly I looked around the craft and found that everything had gone dark, the lights, the TV screens—everything. All that was lighting the claustrophobic craft was the brilliant white light shining in through the windows. I paused with a frown. White light? Surely the sun couldn’t be that bright?
     
    Glancing out the window I found that we were submerging through the cloud cover, meaning that the only light that entered the airplane was nearly white. I made a face and turned back to glance around the cabin just in time to see the entire thing blink rapidly, flipping from total darkness to everything lit up and active multiple times.
     
    Getting a headache I averted my gaze again, choosing to look out through the window. This time I could almost see the distant outline of the landscape through the clouds, almost like it was a drawing in sand—the details being washed away by the wind. It stayed there for but the briefest instant before a large cloud mass eclipsed it from view—and at the same time everything in the aircraft blinked off for the final time.
     
    I paused in my chair, feeling that familiar panic welling up again. Then I felt it, the plane’s engines were thrumming just as mightily as ever but the plane wasn’t moving. Some how, in some way, the plane had simply frozen in the sky.
     
    With a sick feeling of dread I again turned to my window and glanced outside. That cloud mass hadn’t passed—if anything its seemed stronger, brighter. There was nothing I could see outside the crowded cabin of the airplane, nothing but those clouds.
     
    I felt my heart leap into my throat. Other passengers were beginning to feel the same feelings of dread that I had, but they hadn’t realized it entirely yet. There were rumblings moving throughout the people on the craft—talking about the strong cloud cover, and of course about the mysterious darkness that had invaded the vessel.
     
    But nobody turned to their windows and really looked. Had they, they would have seen what I did.
     
    They would have seen the infinte timeless expanse, they would have felt the sickening feeling of being trapped—as though in an enormous block of ice.
     
    They would have seen what I saw: Nothing but endless white.
  7. Janus

    Delay

    By Janus,

    'lo all.
     
    I will be updating with TWO (That's right, two) stories tomorrow. I'm stuck at a friends and have only limited time and access. And also no ideas, and it's late.
     
    And when it's late I maaek speallign aerrrors.
     
    Okay, those were deliberate, but you get the idea.
     
    See you tomorrow!
     
    -Janus
  8. Janus

    Epilogue

    By Janus,

    (12)
     
    This is just a concept I was toying with today, it's a bit interesting in my opinion but harder than I expected to develop.
     
    Word count: 495
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    Epilogue 
    24 Hours after the world ended.
     
    Oh yes, I know just how strange it seems to see those words…imagine how it feels to be scrawling them on this page. Then again, I seem to be assuming this page will even be found—or perhaps I’m simply trying to keep myself sane by inventing a new persona with which to interact. Well hello there possibly-non-existent-person-reading-this, would you like to be my friend?
     
    You would? Smashing!
     
    To say that the world ended unexpectedly would be…untruthful, all those wonderful theories about the universe imploding, or the underworld vomiting forth legions of unholy warriors, or even the sun exploding…all of them were proven false. Unfortunately that means that with the world ended there aren’t even any downed alien spacecraft to take refuge in—or alien overlords to pack us up and ship us away. All that remains is the desolation of a brutal war.
     
    Oh yes, it was we that destroyed us—should that come as any surprise? How often have writers clamored about how our own hubris would destroy us all? Hmm, I can’t recall the exact number, but I do know that philosophers and others of note have put forth the claim that we were inevitably doomed to destroy all that we created—including ourselves.
     
    And so we have. It almost seems banal when you think about it.
     
    You might expect that I would feel some great sense of sorrow about all of this…I don’t know, after all we just met. However I am somewhat surprised to tell you that I do not, perhaps I’m simply not entirely sure that I’m the last human left alive...after all, doesn’t all good fiction have at least one small group of surviving humans? I half expect to wake up tomorrow and find either a group of mutants at the door, or have the entire ruin in which I am staying transformed into some sort of Mad Max’esque fortress.
     
    I feel I must also say that a post apocalyptic world is simply not as interesting as it is portrayed in fiction. In fact it’s quite disappointing. There’s no mutants thus far, no foliage, and nothing prowling about in the ruined city—not even some vaguely disfigured brain-addled humans. Instead there is nothing but the wind blowing its lament over our infinite foolishness. It blows through the canyons that were once shopping malls, through the decimated city, even atop the now-poisoned water.
     
    It really is sad in a way. Not just in that we were inevitably failures in our own destruction—after all, I survived…and others likely did as well. So not only is pathetic that with our last act as a species we were still cursed with failure. It’s also sad in that this is the end of the human race. Not some great and splendorous thing Not some monumental crash and epic destruction. No, instead it’s just an old man scrawling out our epilogue.
     
    Don’t you think it’s sad, my friend?
     
  9. Janus
    FOR SCIENCE! (8) 
    Okay, not so happy with this one. It's supposed to be part one of a two part tribute to one of the first stories I ever typed. That being a naive attempt to make a Novel out of Super Metroid. I got maybe fifteen pages in before I dropped it and never picked it up again.
     
    But I love Metroid, I love it so very, very much. So first of all we see a slightly different take on Metroid original, and then tomorrow there'll be something else. Thursday will be an all-original tale, though. So those of you who don't like this fanfic stuff don't have to worry, it won't be sticking around for long.
     
    I'd also like to apologize for a few things.
     
    One: I think the title sucks, but it's all I got, if you can think of something better please do suggest it.
    Two: There are all sorts of Metroid fan injokes, some of this you probably will not get. Like, at all.
    Three: The ending is both an injoke and a failtastic ending. I JUST NEEDED TO END IT.
     
    Anyhow, enjoy as much as is possible!
     

    Of Mothers. Who Happen to be Brains 
    I landed on the planet’s surface, rolling along the ground to cushion myself from the impact. Above me my ship flew on autopilot, the hatch I had emerged closing silently.
     
    I raised myself into a half-crouch, carefully watching my radar and readying my arm cannon, I knew it was more than possible that I’d be swarmed by Space Pirates at any point and it was important I stayed on guard. Luckily I was only five minutes away from the entry point to their lair—though I expected it to be heavily guarded. Five minutes later I had arrived…and underneath my visored helmet…blanched.
     
    It wasn’t heavily guarded at all. In fact there was a sign sticking out of the strange Blue-grey rock of Zebes that cheerfully informed everyone that this was in fact the express elevator into the Space Pirate secret lair. There was no way this was real. No way. I readied my arm cannon, waiting for the flood of enemies to wash over me at any point, I was most sorely disappointed when none showed up.
     
    “This has to be a joke” I muttered under my breath. I’d been hired to take care of the Notorious Space Pirates and their leader Mother Brain before they did even worse things with their newly discovered weapon, the species known as “Metroids.” So here I was on their home planet of Zebes…a well known Bounty hunter with a well known ship flying directly into their radar space and they have a SIGN that tells me this where their layer is, you’re kidding me.
     
    I sighed, there was nothing else on the planet’s surface, that much I knew, so unless I felt like making my own entrance (a tempting thought, albeit one that would take roughly 3 years by my calculations) I needed to take what I could get. Wary of any sort of trap I stepped into the elevator.
     
    Talk about cramped. With a full suit of armor plus arm cannon I barely managed to squeeze in, and for one second I thought the doors wouldn’t close—as it was they just barely managed to scrape over my armor and close. Phew.
     
    Then I heard it. I couldn’t believe it, but I heard it. How could Mother Brain have the absolute gall. How could it dare to do something like this? I sighed and dialed up my noise filters. There was no way in heck I was going to spend what looked like a long elevator ride listening to the tinkling, synthesized sounds of Muzac.
     
    At long last the ride ended and the Muzac ceased. Exiting the metallic squeeze tube I had been trapped in I entered a vast underground cavern. I realized now that the elevator wasn’t a conventional type and instead was some sort of light-based circular platform which rode down a tube until the exit point. Namely this place.
     
    There were two enormous stone pillars made of the same strange blue-grey stone that covered the surface of Zebes, each with a central tube running through it—maybe they controlled the elevator? If so perhaps If I could cripple the elevator I could prevent Mother Brain’s troops from escaping!
     
    But wait, there was something moving at the top of one of the pillars. I aimed my cannon upwards, checking my target reticle as some sort of…thing entered into my view. It was primarily yellow with faded green on the tips of its…spines? I really wasn’t sure, all I knew is it was an enemy—but perhaps it could serve useful.
     
    I tracked the thing’s movements then let lose a stream of fire directly ahead of it. The creature didn’t stop moving…in fact it seemed that it (and its partner, as I had realized there was another one on the other pillar) were only interested in crawling in a cyclical fashion, up one side, down the other. I fired again, speaking this time.
    “Listen up, there’s more than enough power in this cannon to destroy you! Where is Mother Brain?” The creature responded somewhat predictably, and when I say somewhat I mean incredibly predictably. It just kept going around in its preset path.
     
    I’d say it was a mercy killing, that I was putting the poor mindless thing out of its misery, but unfortunately I couldn’t even say that much, when I blasted the beast it sparked and exploded. They were some sort of Techo-organic security system. Great.
     
    “Oh Samus, you always were so violent” came a…somehow sweet, almost sickeningly so, voice.
    “Mother Brain” I grated out. I hate it when the villains play games with you, don’t they have any respect for all the effort it takes to infiltrate their bases and kill their soldiers? Jeese.
    “Of course!” The voice responded, sounding chipper and upbeat. What. The. Heck.
    “By the way if you’re looking for me I’m in Tourian, deepest layer of the Zebes Fortress. I’d come and greet you, but, you know. Giant brain in a jar and all that.”
     
    Okay now I was getting creeped out, Mother Brain was…chatting with me? Like she knew me or something? Was this all some massive prank?
    “You’re quiet dear, is there something on your mind?” She spoke soothingly. This was infuriating.
    “…Well, I didn’t expect the leader of the Space Pirates to be so…” I spoke before realizing it, why was I speaking to her?
    “Motherly?” She correctly intuited. And when did I start referring to it as a she?
    “Um…yes” I mumbled. Why was I still talking?
    “Well that’s how I got the name Mother brain, dear. Before that I was just brain. Oh by the way, we all pitched in and got a gift for your little attempt-to-kill-us-all party. If you check over on your left over the outcropping you’ll find it. Anyhow dear, my cannons are getting warmed up and I hate to let them get too hot. I’ll see you when you get down here!”
     
    And then the communication was cut, and I was left standing in the middle of a suddenly not-so-hostile enemy base. I think that was the most terrified I’d ever been in my entire life. But maybe, maybe, maybe that had all been a guise, you know, to lower my defenses! Yes, surely that was what it had been. I’d go look for the supposed gift and find it guarded by thousands of well-armed space pirates, or the gift would be a bomb or something that would destroy my power-suit leaving me helpless to fend for myself. SURELY THAT IS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN.
     
    I calmed myself, I hadn’t quite realized that I was hyperventilating—and fogging up my visor. I needed to remain calm, even in the face of such…I searched for the word, none of my usual ones fitting. Adversity? No, Overwhelming odds? No, Viciousness? Definitely not.
     
    Ah, absurdity, that was a wonderful fit—given that this entire situation was absolutely, irredeemably insane. But with luck there would be a band of murderous space pirates just around the bend, I’d shoot them all, and everyone would be happy.
     
    I glanced around the enormous cavern, the blue rock being weird enough at first, but with this fresh deluge of weird I felt like getting on the elevator and leaving. Of course when I looked at the ground I saw the circular platform of light wasn’t there anymore. Okay, so maybe Mother Brain was going to kill me and act like a villain should….Or maybe she just wanted to drive me to the brink of insanity.
     
    However, I realized that standing here wracked with indecision wasn’t going to help me either way. Plus if someone happened to be watching my exploits, or perhaps controlling them through some sort of controller, it wouldn’t be particularly interesting for them.
     
    I wasn’t quite sure where that last thought came from, but I went with it anyways. Then I turned to my left and exited from the ‘foyer’ and into the cavern proper. The first thing I saw was of course a gigantic stone outcropping with a tiny little tunnel underneath it…but it looked like it could be scaled, and in the lighter gravity of Zebes my jumps were nearly doubled. I was at the top in no time, scanning cautiously and seeing only one of those…strange…spikey things (I decided to call them Zebe-ites for sake of clarity.) crawling around on the farthest wall. In the center of the room, however, was a strange sphere that almost seemed to be made of glass, but shone with an intense light.
     
    Quickly realizing that this was the ‘gift’ that Mother Brain (and I assumed the rest of the space pirates) had gotten for me, I dispatched the Zebe-ite with a few well placed cannon shots, and moved closer to observe the strange crystalline orb. It seemed to be almost wholly transparent, with only a faint ring of blue showing where the outer line of the sphere was. Then of course there was the strange light radiating out from it, obscuring the lines even more.
     
    I scanned that thing with every scanner in my suit. Twice. And they all came up clean, upon seeing this verdict I hesitantly reached out with one armored hand and touched the sphere. Immediately the glow intensified and surrounded my suit (and I swear there was some sort of music playing ) causing all of the circuits to temporarily shut down and leaving me motionless—and without my visor, blind..
     
    Slowly the suit began to boot up again, sending power throughout my limbs and restoring my various sensors, but something was new, there was a new suit function listed in my schematics. I grunted and with my restored vision saw that the sphere was gone. Somehow it had been absorbed into my suit. I mentally shrugged, that was the kind of weird I could deal with. With the boot-up process complete the suit set to explaining the new feature installed, it seemed rather interesting, some sort of matter converter so that I could shrink into small spaces, moving around as a ball in an energy format, this I could get used to!
     
    I followed the instructions, I crouched down and then rolled, exactly as the suit had told me my armor began to fold and mould itself, turning into a spherical shape that wrapped all around my form and forming a shell around me. Next all that had to happen was for the matter converter to kick in and I’d be golden.
     
    I waited.
     
    And waited.
     
    My spine got sore very quickly, sitting in a ‘morph ball’ and curled into a horribly uncomfortable position with armor plating all around. Obviously the matter converter wasn’t going to work. I unrolled myself and glanced around the area, after all, I could live without the morph ball, I just needed to get to ‘Tourian.’
     
    Looking around the enclosed space I let out a stream of curses. On one side was the ending of the space pirates cavern, leaving only a sheer rock face that met the ceiling, on the other was the outcropping I’d climbed, but on this side it too was sheer and insurmountable. My only hope lay in that tiny little opening, which I could only fit through in morph ball form. I wanted to cry.
     
    I got as close as I could to the mouth of the tiny cavern, evaluating it mentally and with a few of my scanners as well. Even if I lay flat on my stomach and crawled I would be far too wide with my power armor—and if I abandoned my power armor I had no guarantees for survival, I wasn’t even sure if there was oxygen here! I sighed, crouched, and rolled; my armor again activated and formed the armored ball. Easy part was done.
     
    The problem with morph ball, I reflected, was not only that the matter converter seemed to be disabled, but also that when one is in a ball and curled into what was basically fetal position, one has no real means of locomotion—however I wasn’t the best bounty hunter in the galaxy for nothing. Sighing I heaved my body backwards, picking up just enough momentum that the morph ball slowly eased forwards and into the cavern.
    “Now that wasn’t so bad,” I mused to myself, heaving my body again and driving the ball a tiny bit further into the mouth of the cavern.
     
    All of a sudden there was a horrid screeching all around me. Instantly I was on my guard (though still trapped inside the ball) was this an alarm? Was Mother Brain attacking me now that I was trapped? Short answer: No, and also no.
     
    Instead, a monitor inside the ball activated and showed me that the cavern was tighter than even I expected, leading the metallic surface of my armor to scrape loudly across it. Sighing I brought up a map and found I was less than a quarter of the way through it. I think I could have killed someone.
     
    After an endless agony of that horrid screeching I finally escaped the tunnel, emerging into my fully armored form once again. I was going to make Mother Brain HURT for that.
    “BRAIN!” I shouted at the walls, I was sure she had some sort of surveillance, otherwise she couldn’t have spoken to me earlier. “Brain, I am taking you down, you hear me?” The response was faster than I could have expected, a speaker crackled to life and Mother Brain’s strangely comforting voice began to echo around the cavern
    “I’m sorry, I must have stepped out to raid some federation ships with my new army of Metroids, but your call is important to me, so please do leave your contact info and I’ll be sure to get right back to you! And if this is Samus, sorry sweetie, I guess you’ll just have to wait for me in Tourian, hate to leave you hanging like this.”
     
    My mouth dropped open, an answering machine? I got an answering machine? I realized two things right then and there. One: This was going to be a long and hard journey fraught with me wanting to kill things.
    Two: I hated this planet. I hated it so much.
     
    I sighed, some days just don’t end.
     
    Oh well, I’d get Mother Brain in the end, and hopefully she wouldn’t activate some sort of base-destroying bomb that I only had precious few seconds to escape from.
     
    But what were the chances of that?
     
    Word Count: 2,416
  11. Janus

    Deprivation

    By Janus,

    (16)
     
    Late. I know. I'm a terrible person who has been busy and lazy lately. This story came to me last night before I went to bed and is probably better than what I'd had planned beforehand.
     
    I hope to have a second story up today, and then both days missed will be made up for.
     
    Yarr.
     
    Word count: 1,040.
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    Deprivation 
    To say I was afraid of the dark wouldn’t too far from the truth, but I was never the darkness itself that frightened me so. Even the thought of things lurking in it did not perturb me. Instead, somehow, it was the thought of what wasn’t there that caused me such fright. The absence of light was the obvious fear, but my nights were filled with vague horrors of myself grasping blindly about in the blackest of night, reaching and groping for something that no longer existed.
     
    And just to add on to those existing fears was the pervasive knowledge that there was no way to escape the darkness. No matter what it would come. Even the brightest of lights would eventually flicker and die—leaving me alone in the darkness, where things moved on their own and I vainly struggled to find what I would never be able to.
     
    You can imagine, then, how I felt when I awoke to find myself in a brightly lit cell. The floor had deep recesses in between crisp white tiles and dotting the walls and high-anchored ceiling were powerful floodlights. It wasn’t a painful amount of light—all it really did was make me aware of just how large the holding area was.
     
    I stood there, washed in the powerful lights that shone all over the room, and felt that prickle of fear. I could only identify one exit and it was magnetically locked. I knew that much.
     
    “How are you this morning, Doctor?” came a slightly garbled female voice from the loudspeaker. Of course they were observing me.
    “Quite well, and yourselves?” I managed to get out with only the slightest quaver in my voice.
    “We’re quite eager, Doctor. You were doing some truly fascinating work on light deprivation…” I heard snickers in the background, her comrades no doubt. I heard papers being flipped over…those cretins were looking through my work! For an instant my fear was forgotten as rage took over—First these insignificant snots hold my staff and I at gunpoint and forcefully take over our lab—and now they’re stealing my research?
     
    “I’m especially interested in this one, Doctor” Came the female voice again.
    “And which one would that be?” I bit my tongue, holding back a choice name.
    “The theory that the human brain can be so very disturbed by darkness that it can seem like objects are moving. I’m most eager to test this.” I could hear venom dripping from her voice—I only hoped that my other staff were managing to escape torment like this.
     
    “And how do you suggest you do that?” I asked meekly, disgusted with my own cowardice.
    “Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way.” As she spoke, the magnetically locked door snapped open and two men dragged in a large couch with some very lumpy pillows. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
    “I’ll let you get acquainted” She said maliciously, then the loudspeaker went dead.
     
    I’m not ashamed to admit that the second the loudspeaker was turned off I let out a stream of venom and curses the likes of which I’d never uttered before…These impudent brats deserved every word of it. It was then, gasping with breath, that I moved to investigate the strange couch—and jumped back in shock and revulsion as the lumpy pillow began to thrash and convulse. Sickening though it looked, I swallowed my fear and moved forward…finally catching sight of a zipper. To say I was shocked and disgusted didn’t even come close, one of my staff was in that!
     
    Angrily I grabbed the zipper and pulled it down, revealing a familiar form.
    “…Martha?” I gasped out, seeing my wife before me—I hadn’t thought that these sickos would stoop so low! Martha for her part was silent, and it took me some time to discover that was because of a gag roughly stuffed into her mouth. Gently cradling her with one arm I undid the gag…just in time to see the lights go black.
     
    “Fred!” I heard Martha cry, but to say that I was slightly frightened wouldn’t have been accurate. I was terrified, and in that terror it was all I could do not to hold Martha in a vice-grip.
    “Shhh, hon,” I murmured, attempting to quell her fears…and with luck my own. “we’ll be fine, let’s just move to the door…maybe we can get out of here when they open it!” I spoke, sounding far more confident than I felt. Martha for her part, had always been a strong woman and giving my hand a tight squeeze she moved from the couch and to the tiled floor, with me not far behind.
     
    About midway through the room (I estimated, it was impossible to see anything…or gauge distance in the thick darkness) I paused, frowning.
    “What is it, Fred?” Martha whispered, sensing my reticence.
    “The couch.” I muttered. “I just can’t figure out what the point of the couch is…surely they could have just dropped you on the floor?” Martha made a small noise of indignation at this, bringing a smile to my lips.
    “If it’s bothering you that much, why not go investigate it?” She said softly. “I can make it to the door on my own, and then we’ll meet up, okay?”
     
    Hesitantly I agreed and set off toward the direction I thought the couch was in. About twenty minutes later I became aware that I was hopelessly lost…but that didn’t make sense. Martha and I had moved in a straight line from the couch…and I had just reversed that…it should have been here…unless…
    “Martha!” I cried, panic gripping at me. “Martha!”
     
    There was no response. I searched the room for hours but it was exactly as I had expected…not just the couch, but Martha too…had vanished forever. Visions of my wife reaching blindly in the darkness came to me, I saw her fingers groping for something, anything before…before whatever it was that happened. I knew it couldn’t have been the door, because not only would I have heard the magnetic lock, but the light from the corridor would have been near blinding.
     
    Though it defied all logic, my wife had simply vanished into the darkness…and I was left.
     
    Alone.
  14. Janus
    (17)
     
    AGH.
     
     
    AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH.
     
    THIS STORY WOULD NOT END. I seriously tried. I tried, I wanted to end it around 1,000 words.
     
    BUT IT WOULDN'T LET ME WHY WOULDN'T IT EEEEEEEEEEEND?
     
    Read. Please read. AGH.
     
    *Brainsplode*
     
    Word count: 3,017
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    Let's do the Time Warp again! 
     
    Blazing heat emanated all around the dry dunes of Po-Koro, and amidst this heat the Toa Nuva, brave heroes that they were, slogged onward. All about them there was only desolate desert, the only hope for some revitalizing shade being the distant canyons and mountains that ringed about the arid wasteland. It was towards those canyons that the Toa made their way, their eyes set grim and their weapons slung like weights across their backs.
     
    Pohatu led them across the blazing sands, and he was the first to break the heavy silence that had fallen across the group.
    “We really have to do this again?” He muttered grimly.
    “Unfortunately” Tahu grunted, wiping a bead of moisture from his mask.
    “Couldn’t we at least have the Matoran carry us? I mean, we are Toa!” Lewa chirped in
    “Nuva” Kopaka added curtly
    “What he said.” Onua began, always quick to ensure proper word usage amongst the Toa. “Well…that, and the fact that the Matoran are all living in Metru Nui, so there’s nobody here.”
     
    “Oh Yeah” Pohatu and Lewa both chorused.
    “As for why they didn’t put this thing down in Metru-Nui…” Gali murmured.
    “Budget!” All the Toa yelled synonymously.
     
    When at last they had made it to the inviting shade of one of the canyons the Toa allowed themselves to relax, depositing their weapons into one of the conveniently placed “Tool” storage bins. Then they all got ready for their least favourite experience. Before them, in the shadows of the canyon stood a newly erected Theatre, this time easily four times the size of the last.
    “Think they’re compensating for something?” Lewa snickered upon seeing the massive tower.
    “Yes.” Kopaka muttered, the rest of the Toa Nuva simply chose to ignore the two of them.
    “Well, may as well just get this over with...” Tahu muttered, striding toward the massive stone structure.
     
    Suddenly he halted mid-step and put up his fists, shouting “Toa! Get ready!” and each Toa in turn began powering up their elemental powers, temporarily devoid of their weapons.
    “Stupid bins!” Lewa was heard to shout as he saw the danger that now faced the Toa…a danger that seemed rather…uninterested.
    “Hmmm? Oh. Hello Toa.” Came a dark and gravelly voice
    “Nuva” Onua corrected.
    “Yes, yes. Toa Nuva. Whatever” The Master of Shadows said offhandedly, waving an armored hand.
    “Makuta! Enemy of the Matoran and Toa everywhere, how dare you come to invade our former home!” Tahu shouted, raising a flaming fist toward the imposing figure.
     
    Makuta frowned and checked what appeared to be a watch on his wrist. Then he looked nervously toward the sky, one of his heavily armored feet tapping the ground in an odd tattoo. He appeared to not even notice Tahu’s challenge.
    “Um?” Pohatu responded, finding it very difficult to look imposing in the face of Makuta’s utter indifference.
    “Makuta?” Gali questioned, allowing her elemental energy to fade and walking toward the armored colossus.
    “Hmm? Oh, what do you want Toa?”
    “Nuva.” Onua interjected helpfully.
    “Whatever!” Makuta snapped.
    “I trust that you are not here to deny us entry, or otherwise impede in our mission in any way?” The Toa of water said soothingly. The Master of Shadows simply sighed, his entire body slumping forward.
    “Indeed no, Toa Nuva. I am not here to be your enemy…in fact I do believe we have both been called here for the same reason.”
     
    Tahu’s eyes became wide.
    “You can’t mean that you’re going to be in the storyline again! You’re so…so….”
    “Dangerous? Menacing? Cruel? Wicked? Villainous?” Makuta inserted, hopefully.
    “..Overdone.” Tahu finally finished.
    “Yes. Well...” Makuta faltered and fell silent.
    “Um…shall we head inside?” Lewa spoke, indicating the enormous building and its now-open doors.
     
    Makuta said nothing and lumbered off toward the shadowed building, and after a choice
    “Awwwwwwkward.” By Pohatu, the Toa set off behind him. They’d almost made it to the towering theatre when they heard a cheerful voice shout out:
    “Master!” In response to this Makuta mumbled something vaguely threatening…but incomprehensible to the Toa. Luckily enough the cheerful voice was more than loud enough for everyone to hear.
    “But master! This is just a temp-job! Something to help me get back on my feet, I’ll be back to scheming with you in no time!” Makuta simply growled at these words and stormed inside.
     
    “Um, guys?” Lewa whispered “Isn’t that the guy who worked at the theatre last time?”
    And indeed, the black Rau’d Matoran who had staffed the ticket booth previously was sitting atop a luxurious looking stool directly outside the doors of the new building.
    “Oh. Hi, Toa.” He said with a nervous grin.
    “Nuva.” Onua muttered.
    “Right, right. Hi, Toa Nuva! Welcome to the theatre, how are you today?” The Matoran spoke incredibly rapidly, getting more and more flustered by the second.
    “You work for Makuta?” Kopaka asked, his voice like ice.
    “…Yes.” The Matoran replied truthfully, lowering his head in shame.
    “What’s the pay like?” Kopaka said, after a moment of consideration.
    “Well…I get to live!” The Matoran responded.
    “Not worth it.” Pohatu said with a frown as he passed through the doors. The Matoran simply shrugged his shoulders.
    “I also get to control Rahi and wear this totally awesome mask!”
     
    The Toa Nuva gave no response, simply ignoring the diminutive Matoran and walking into the well-lit hallway of the theatre. They promptly blanched as they saw Makuta, Master of Shadows…attempting to hide behind a garbage can.
    “Um?” Lewa said, dumbfounded.
    “Makuta?” Gali said gently, holding her hand out to the massive figure.
    “It’s light in here. I hate light” Makuta said simply. Then, with a strong blush evident on his mask he stood up and walked through the door into the theatre proper—leaving a large Makuta-sized hole in the wall. The Toa Nuva followed him wordlessly.
     
    Once inside (and once the Black Rau’d Matoran had been summoned to fix the gaping hole in the wall) they quickly found seats…as far away from the Master of Shadows as was possible.
     
    Unfortunately for all involved, they had all arrived horrendously early and had nothing to do to kill time. This of course led to conversation.
    “So…Makuta…what brings you here?” Tahu managed to force out, maintaining a large, fake, smile on his face the entire time.
    “Oh.” Makuta responded simply. “Apparently they’ve decided that one Makuta isn’t good enough, so it’s no-longer just my name, but the name of an entire SPECIES.”
    “Ohgod” Lewa squeaked, hiding half of his mask behind the stone backing of another chair.
    “Yes, that’s the response I would expect,” Makuta said haughtily. “however I simply don’t like it! One: It takes away from my individuality…after all, they’re all going to be just as powerful as I am!”
    “Mata-Nui…” Onua whispered, before joining Lewa in cowering behind his chair.
    “And Two: The only way they can get a sufficient amount of Makuta into the story is to make them canister sets! So there’s going to be six incredibly powerful Makuta (who aren’t me!) running around, while looking about as strong as you Toa!”
    “…” Kopaka said nothing, simply choosing to duck out of sight at that time.
     
    Thankfully, before any more Toa could be petrified, the speakers and screen activated and that horribly annoying voice once again assaulted the Toa’s ears.
    “Well hey there Toa! (and Makuta)”
    “Nuva” Onua popped up quickly, before retreating behind his seat.
    “We’ve got a fabulous show for you tonight! In fact we’re going quite a bit ahead in this one, this is Circa 2008, the “Final Battle” we like to call it. It sounds really dramatic, don’t you think??”
    “Desperate is more like it…” Tahu muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.
    “Anyhow, without spoiling too much, it’s about The Toa Nuva’s face off with Makuta’s evil army of Makuta…wow that sounded confusing! Either way, it’s a desperate race for a Mask that none of you know about yet! And also there’s flying ships with tons of guns! Man are the kids going to love it!”
    “Please, please, please tell me they’re kidding.” Gali murmured, all idealism lost.
    “They weren’t kidding about chainsaws, why would they kid about this?” Onua muttered darkly, finally having returned to his seat.
     
    “Oh, one more note!” the announcer said cheerfully, his face filling the screen. “Due to….the creative process taking longer than it should. We’re only going to be able to show you three of each team: Makuta and Toa Nuva. We’ll call you back when they’re all finished!” Almost immediately as he finished speaking, the Toa Nuva looked at each other and then began fervent prayers that they wouldn’t be one of the three shown.
    “Anyhow, on with the show!” the announcer cried, and the screen faded to black as drums and guitar riffs kicked in.
     
    The Toa Nuva were not so easily tricked this time, not even one of them moving an inch as the music played. The Master of Shadows, however, seemed helpless to the thrall of the music…Even playing Air Guitar at one point.
    “Dude.” Was Lewa’s only response.
     
    Suddenly the screen lit up and text scrolled rapidly, explaining that the song currently playing was “Gravity Hurts” and that while it would be available for download in 2008—all of those in the theatre could purchase an advance copy for only $19.95! The Toa simply stared. Makuta bought five.
     
    The music continued to play, but now a short video was playing, showing figures flying through a dimly lit sky amidst massive stalagmites. When it ended (with the words BIONICLE 2008 – THE FINAL BATTLE) the true show began.
     
    A bright orange and grey figure appeared helicopter through the area, holding up massive claws that split into propellers and aiming an incredibly large cannon. On his face there was some sort of blue bubble and….
    “The Mask of time!?” Tahu gasped, incredulous.
    “Pohatu Nuva – Adaptive Armor” The screen stated, explaining that his armaments consisted of a “Midak Skyblaster” Twin Propellers (that double as drills) and the Kakama Nuva.
    “What.” Pohatu said dumbly, looking at the screen, then removing his mask and comparing the two with a quizzical look on his face.
    “How is that not the Vahi?” Tahu grunted. “That is totally the Vahi.”
    “I agree, Toa” Makuta responded, suddenly sitting right beside the rest of the Nuva.
    “Why are you orange?” Gali asked.
    “I….I don’t know!” was Pohatu’s only response.
    “Could be worse?” Lewa chirped in helpfully.
    “Mata-Nui…next!” Onua shouted.
     
    The screen flashed with thunder as a sinister looking red and black creature flew down, its clawed feet landing on the rough stone beneath. It was a lanky looking thing, with large bladed wings and vicious looking swords in its hands. Its chest seemed to be a glowing, pulsing orb, and on its face was a brutal looking mask unlike the Toa had ever seen.
    “Makuta Antroz” the screen explained. Listing his armaments as a “Tridax Pod” the Kanohi Jutlin, and poisonous fangs and claws.
    Both Toa and Makuta alike stared, mouths agape.
    “Scary mask.” Kopaka muttered, crossing his arms.
    “Why are my soldiers anorexic?” Makuta said with a frown. “What’s wrong with having a villain with some meat on his bones?”
    “There, there…” Gali said, patting Makuta on one of his massive shoulders.
    “Anyone really afraid of running into this guy?” Tahu asked
    “Nah!” The rest of the Toa responded. Makuta began to cry.
    “Next!” Lewa cried.
     
    The screen lightened considerably and a powerful thrumming noise could be heard as a grey and lime green figure streaked across the screen three times before gingerly landing. The figure was tall and imposing with a single jagged blade and large get engines strapped to his arms. On his face there was bright green Kanohi with jet-intakes in the sides.
     
    “Lessovikk?” Gali murmured. “Oh wait, I’m not supposed to know who he is. Carry on!” she said quickly, ignoring the strange looks the rest of the theatre was giving her.
    “Lewa Nuva – Adaptive Armor” The screen said, showing his equipment consist of a “Midak Skyblaster” the Air Saber, and of course the Miru Nuva.
    “It’s not as ugly as my current one!” Lewa cried happily, looking at the mask.
    “What is with those giant cannon things?” Onua muttered darkly.
    “Why do you only have one sword?” Kopaka asked slowly.
    “I’m not entirely sure. I’m also not sure where my WINGS are and why I have JETPACKS. But my mask is less ugly and that’s all I care about!” Lewa cried, looking about wildly.
    “But it still looks nothing like your original Miru…or your Miru Nuva.” Pohatu said carefully.
    “LESS. UGLY.” was Lewa’s only response. Tahu sighed.
    “Next!”
     
    Everything went dark and only a silhouette with piercing yellow eyes could be made out. Gradually as the light returned to the screen it could be seen that the figure was entirely black and silver, with cruel looking blades for hands and large batlike wings. Adorning its face was a vaguely skull-like Kanohi, and like the creature before it, its chest pulsed with an eerie orange light.
    “Makuta Chirox” The screen listed, showing his accessories to be a “Tridax Pod” a pair of Hook Blades, and the Kanohi Shelek.
     
    Makuta screamed. “Oh come on! You can see his ribs! Why are all of my soldiers so blasted skinny!?”
    “You don’t feed them?” Pohatu said with a shrug.
    “Of course I don’t!” Makuta trilled. “Do I look like a mother to you? But I do make sure that they eat four square meals a day—otherwise how can I expect them to kill you accursed Toa?”
    “Fair enough point.” Kopaka said offhandedly.
    “Still, those blades look pretty scary!” Gali said in a desperate bid to pull Makuta from his funk. Of course Onua didn’t exactly help matters when he finally spoke.
    “…So far they look like I could break them in half. Without using my Pakari.”
    in response Gali shot him a glare so venomous that even Maktua winced. Scrambling away from Gali Ground Zero, Pohatu shouted
    “Neeeext!”
     
    Light flooded into the room as the screen displayed a dark grey and white warrior effortlessly cruising through the air. With a slight spin and a loop-de-loop the warrior landed, folding large wings behind his back. He was holding an enormous cannon like the Toa before him, but this time it was two-handed with a tiny blade peeking out from the front. His mask was entirely white and resembled a cross between the great Ruru and the Kanohi Akaku.
     
    Kopaka looked up in abject horror, his mouth constantly moving but no words coming out. Then at last the inevitably happened and the words appeared.
    “Kopaka Nuva – Adaptive Armor” showing his equipment to be a “Midak Skyblaster” a Blizzard Blade, and the (There was a howl of agony from the audience) Akaku Nuva.
    “THEY GOT IT ON THE WRONG SIDE!” Kopaka shrieked, his normally cool exterior gone.
    “I could live with the butterknife. I could even live with the lack of a shield…but HOW in the name of MATA-NUI did they get my SCOPE on the WRONG SIDE?” Throughout Kopaka’s entire outburst, Makuta stayed oddly silent…then began whistling and twiddling his thumbs. Kopaka whirled on the Master of Shadows, his eyes ablaze.
    “This is your fault. Your entire existence will be agony so long as you live.” He said coolly, and then seated himself. The Toa simply sat there with stunned looks on their faces.
    “All in favour of never ticking Kopaka off…ever?” Lewa said meekly. Both the Toa and Makuta alike raised their hands in utter silence.
    “NEXT!” Kopaka growled, his eyes never leaving Makuta’s.
     
    The screen flashed with lightning as a dark, bat-like shape prowled through the air, at last coming to rest upside down. From their vantage point the Toa could see that the figure was almost entirely dark blue and silver with a blunt, vicious looking mask and baleful eyes. They could also see that unlike the other Makuta before it, it was not humanoid: With large looks for hands and wings sprouting directly from its arms…not to mention diminutive feet and legs, it resembled nothing more than an enormous bat.
     
    “Makuta Vamprah” the screen declared, explaining that his armaments consisted entirely of a “Tridax Pod” razor sharp wings and claws, and the Kanohi Avsa.
     
    “Now my soldiers don’t even have legs?” Makuta said blankly, his eyes wide. “What had I done so wrong?”
    “Try and conquer Mata-Nui and kill us, maybe?” Pohatu responded glibly, ignoring the vicious glare that Makuta sent his way. “It was just a thought” he said with a shrug.
    “Maybe it helps him fly better” Gali said soothingly, gingerly patting the armored colossus’ arm.
    “And that’s another thing!” Makuta said suddenly. “Why are there no girls in my army? I am an equal opportunity employer!”
    “Yeah, we know.” Tahu said darkly. “We heard all about Roodaka, thanks.” At his words the entire room shuddered violently, remembering all the trouble that Roodaka had caused with her blatantly female form.
    “I think even I could break this one in two” Lewa said cheerfully, glancing at the screen. Makuta gave out a wail.
     
    “Well that’s all there is to show, folks. We hope you enjoyed this preview! Remember, these aren’t final—after all, the focus groups haven’t gotten their chance yet! We’ll call you back in a few months to show you the finalized versions—and the rest of the lineup for the FINAL BATTLE. DUHN DUHN DUHN DUUUUUUHN.”
     
    The entire theatre blanched.
    “Did he really just do that?” Pohatu asked, wincing.
    “Yes, yes he did.” Gali responded with a sigh.
    “Let us leave and never again return?” Onua questioned hopefully.
    “Contract doesn’t allow it.” Makuta responded darkly, stalking out of the theatre.
    “May next month never come…” Tahu said grimly.
     
    Together the Toa and Makuta walked from the theatre, ignoring the shrill cries of the Black Rau’d Matoran and picking up their various weapons. They half-heartedly swore to defeat each other, but both sides could tell that their hearts weren’t in it. Everyone was too preoccupied with thinking of what horrors yet lay in store.
     
    If they only knew…
  15. Janus

    Four Minutes To Live

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE! 2.0 (7) 
    Sleep happens now.
     
    Wordcount: 897
     
    Enjoy. Sleep.
     

     

    Four minutes to live 
    Four minutes and counting. That’s what they said.
     
    I’m scared…less scared than I expected, but still frightened enough that I’m unable to quell the nervous sweat that’s creeping to my skin. Nor am I able to take control over my breathing which has become more and more erratic as the seconds pass.
     
    Four minutes and counting. Four minutes to live.
     
    I can hear them all abandoning the room; the heavy thumps of their boots as they clomp down the hallways. I can even hear the them shouting to each other, panicked shouts—they’re just as terrified as I am.
     
    But somehow I’m not as terrified as I should be. In mere minutes I’ll be dead…in mere minutes this entire facility will be nothing but ruins, and here I am. Bound to a chair and locked in a room. There’s no lights, no heat, no nothing….yet somehow I’m not afraid.
     
    I suppose it could just be shock. You know, you never expect something like this to happen to you. Certainly it could happen to other people, but never you.
     
    No, never.
     
    Perhaps the brain simply isn’t able to rationally deal with it, and so it retreats into a sense of numbness—leaving me logically aware that I should feel petrified, but unable to feel anything.
     
    Heh, listen to me. I’m dissecting my own imminent death, it sounds crazy.
     
    The hallways outside are silent now. I can’t hear any more footfalls coming from them, and the cacophonous shouting has ceased as well. I’m alone now.
     
    The fear has almost left now…but I’m not numb anymore, some vague sense of emotion is trickling into my body. Anger, that’s it. I’m angry about being trapped here in this room, angry at the darkness that pervades this room, and the sense of fury I have at the men who’ve left my here to die? Well, there are no words to describe it.
     
    Still, somewhere in the back of my mind my imagination is running wild.
    “What’s going to happen to me?” It asks, running through a variety of scenarios rapidly, attempting to determine which one will be the one that gets me.
     
    It could be a bomb, I suppose. One planted in the facility—that’d make sense. Perhaps it’s even in the room around me. A localized blast would be the most effective thing for eradicating me. Then again these men are soldiers…they could have called in an air strike—that’d explain them scrambling to escape the facility as quickly as possible.
     
    Of course it could also be a poisonous gas, but if that was the case then I’d imagine that they’d have put me next to a vent—just to ensure I actually perished.
     
    I don’t even know how much time I have left anymore. And what am I spending my last precious few minutes doing? Trying to figure out how they’re going to end! I’d laugh if I could, as it is all I can do is feel the building rage within me. How dare they do this to me!
     
    I hear some sort of hiss in the room, vaguely serpentine in nature—please tell me they didn’t put some sort of live snake in here—something that’ll slink and lurk all about by body before finally piercing me with its fangs….I shudder just thinking about it.
     
    I can vaguely make out some sort of nozzle emerging from the wall. Somehow I’m able to see clearer now, the previously impenetrable darkness giving way to a dim foggy sort of light.
     
    The nozzle must be some sort of poison distributor. I imagine that any time now I’ll be inhaling the toxins and then it’ll be a short period of pain and a long period of dead.
     
    Wait, the anger is back now. They tied me up….they kidnapped me and threw me in here and tied me up!
     
    There’s a snap, a resounding crack; I can feel that the ropes holding me have snapped, from there it’s a simple enough process to take the chair I was previously sitting in and demolish the door.
     
    Light floods into the previously dark room, causing me to wince and cover my eyes, but I need to press onwards. I take a heavy step, my anger fueling me as I stomp down the hallway, I need to get out of here.
     
    I hear voices, soldiers are all around me. They’re yelling in some foreign tongue that I don’t understand. They raise their guns, aim, and fire.
     
    As soon as I saw the guns raise I knew there was no way to dodge, no way to do anything but sit there and be ventilated by the many bullets that will undoubtedly be coming my way.
     
    But wait. The soldiers are looking confused…fearful? I’m waiting for them to fire but they seem reluctant to…but if they didn’t fire then where is all that acrid smoke coming from?
     
    I look downwards, the floor is littered with bullets—and while my shirt has been quite ventilated, I somehow remain unharmed. I hear one of the soldiers scream out, I can’t understand anything he says except
    “Experiment!”
     
    So, I was an experiment to them, was I? I smile, it seems that their experiment failed…but I can live with being invulnerable.
     
    Now, how long was it they gave me to live? Four minutes?
     
    You know what they say, turnabout is fair play.
     
  16. Janus

    Signifying Nothing

    By Janus,

    (10)
     
    First attempt at new title graphic, I dunno if I like it enough yet.
     
    We'll find out.
     
    You'll get part two of Gods another night, tonight I simply wasn't in the mood.
     
    Word count: 167
     
    Enjoy.
     

     

    Signifying Nothing 
    Sound and fury signifying nothing…that’s what this entire entry is about. I would have loved to write the second part of Gods—unfortunately when your mind is pre-occupied with other things it becomes most difficult to write to a satisfactory degree. (Or at least I find it hard to match my standards)
     
    As such I will instead default to my backup—that being this: A bunch of hot air, a bunch of anger that will do nothing and change nothing.
     
    Very little in this world infuriates me more than pointless discrimination—even discrimination is bad enough. However something has happened which I feel shows a clear example of this, and has even set me at the throats of my friends. Something of which I am not proud.
     
    But to be honest, the rage has left my system and now I’m just feeling very, very drained. Exhausted, really.
     
    So I’ll end this early and go to sleep, apologies for wasting your time.
     
    I did say it signified nothing.
     
  17. Janus

    Super Metroid

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE! (9) 
    This story I'm actually relatively pleased with, it's really not much--in fact it's basically just the intro to Super Metroid (hence the name), but I always loved the intro to Super Metroid with a passion (then again I loved all of Super Metroid with a passion)
     
    The funny thing with this story is it didn't turn out at all like I expected. I had expected to deal with Samus' planetfall and subsequent discovery of a ruined Space Pirate base, I always found that part of the game ridiculously creepy. Instead I ended up enjoying writing about Ceres station far more than I expected.
     
    Maybe this means there's another Super Metroid story down the line somewhere.
     
    Maybe.
     
    Enjoy!
     

    Super Metroid 
    Sirens blared, alerting me to the immense shockwave that was washing over the surface of my ship, buffeting it about like a tiny schooner in the midst of a tidal storm. Remembering my training I made no attempt to control reach the control console, instead remaining in my quarters, tightly gripping an emergency handrail until the shockwave had passed and a relative tranquility came over the tiny vessel.
     
    Letting go of the handrail I floated effortlessly to the hatch that led from my quarters to the corridor and from there into the bridge. Upon reaching the bridge of the ship I checked the various instruments, inspecting temperature, speed, and of course, damage. Strangely enough the ship was seemingly untouched. Whatever had caused that shockwave had to have been moving incredibly rapidly, but whatever it was it hadn’t damaged my ship. That’s all I cared about.
     
    I was about to leave the bridge and go rest in my quarters when the telltale shrill beeping of my communicator filled the silence aboard the ship. I sighed and sat down at the communications console, fitting myself snuggly in-between the control panels that took up most of the space on the bridge. With an idle mind I flicked the switch that activated the communications rig, expecting to find someone wanting expert bounty hunter Samus Aran for whatever reason—instead I found a dropdown screen informing me of an S.O.S. in large blinking letters. Flipping up the navigations console I scanned for any nearby vessels that could have been scuttled, or had their power cut, but the only thing that came up was the research station I had just left. Ceres Station was under attack.
     
    Without a second thought I shifted my seat to the piloting controls, dialing the speed to maximum and sending my ship hurtling through space towards the distant speck that was Ceres Research station. There was no way I was allowing anyone to get away with attacking that station, not when I knew what was on board. Setting my ships navigation safely to autopilot I left the bridge to suit up, I had no intention of walking into a trap unarmed.
     
    The door to my small armory hissed open, revealing my most basic armor suit—had I had more time I would have been able to return to HQ and use one of my many upgraded suits, but as it was all I had on me was the recon variety for an upcoming mission. I sighed
    “Better this than nothing, I suppose.”
     
    I had just finished checking my suits’ diagnostics when my proximity alarm alerted me to the fact that we were on approach to Ceres. It was a few seconds later that I realized my hailing signals weren’t being responded to. This was not a good sign. I took a deep breath and activated my ship’s gravity, using one of the various subsystems routed directly into my suit. In an instant there was a sudden lurching feeling, and then the heavy clang of my armored boots hitting the floor of the armory. I smiled grimly, systems check all green for pressure sensors.
     
    By the time I had reached the bridge again I could see Ceres Station through the view screen, the massive gear shaped oval filling my view with a thousand twinkling lights from its various different ports and windows. Taking hold of the controls I gently steered my ship towards the central hollow, where even from this distance, four massive red lights could be seen flashing brightly. Guiding my ship into this hollow I fired my retro rockets and found a docking port nearest the sector I wanted to go to. Using another subsystem of my suit I interfaced directly with Ceres’ docking computer, feeling the dull reverberations of the heavy docking clamps slamming shut around my ship and drawing me into the station’s plated hull.
     
    Once the station had automatically docked me, I drew up a map onscreen and found that I was just one tier above where I needed to be. I double checked my arm cannon and set my ships’ defenses to their highest level—there was no telling what could be out there. With that done I opened the hatch in the roof of the ship and allowed the platform to carry me from the warm comfort of my own ship into the cold metal vastness that was Ceres.
     
    Almost immediately I was on guard, using my passive scanners and radar to begin searching through my immediate area, and tracking everything with my arm cannon. I stepped off the armored hull of my ship and into a service dock, accessing the blueprints of the station from there I took the nearest service elevator down into the third tier of Ceres Station. While I had been here recently I wanted the blueprints in case anything unexpected happened.
     
    The ride down the service elevator was uneventful, however it did confirm a fear of mine. Upon reaching the bottom of the shaft I found no-one there to greet me. Having just recently left them, and especially considering what I had left in their care, this was unthinkable. Whatever was attacking was after this section specifically.
     
    I entered one of the armored doors, which took me into the oxygenated and comfortable area of Ceres proper and looked around slowly—everything looked exactly as I’d left it. The only difference was that there were no hurried bustling scientists, in fact it was as quiet as a tomb. I picked up my pace and made my way deeper into the station, walking down a flight of stairs and into the ‘experimental research’ department—where I hoped I’d find the scientists huddled, scared, but alive.
     
    Instead I was greeted with the sight of three scientists’ dead, their bodies viciously slashed and bleeding profusely. In the center of the room a large apparatus lay in ruins, with the subject of experimentation being nowhere to be found. I gritted my teeth, it was possible that this was going to get much worse than I expected.
     
    Wishing I could have spared a moment to mourn for the dead, I instead sprinted across the room, entering another heavily armored door and finding myself in a narrow corridor. One described in the blueprints as leading to the storage room—if ever there were a place to find living scientists, it would be the storage room. I only hoped I was right.
     
    I entered the storage area, tracking with my cannon, and found it completely bare of anything, light included…except a large containment unit containing the gift I had left for the scientists on Ceres. The hatchling Metroid from planet SR-388. I breathed a sigh of relief, whatever had attacked the station hadn’t known about the hatchling, and the scientists must have given up their life to get it to safety here. I lowered my cannon and allowed my scanners to fall silent, I already knew there was a life form here, the hatchling in front of me. I took a step towards the containment unit, thinking of various other research stations that would be happy to continue Ceres’ work, but was shocked to hear a voice speaking.
    “Not quite that easy, Samus” came a dark growl. All of a sudden a baleful eye flared above where the canister that held the Metroid was, and using my visor’s heat tracking I was able to make out the hulking form of one of Mother Brain’s generals, the cruel and intelligent Ridley.
     
    “You actually thought you’d won, Hunter?” The massive dragon crowed. “Thought you’d beaten us? That we’d just give up and die?” The enormous claw holding the containment unit squeezed it tightly. “No, Samus. We’re not dead yet!” And with that the massive beast hurled itself into the air, blasting a stream of fire directly towards me.
     
    Acting out of reflex I threw myself to the side, tracking and firing as I did so. Most of my shots simply bounced of the dragon’s black carapace but a single shot struck him in his sensitive beak, causing a shriek of pain to erupt from the creature’s mouth. Then he fixed me with his hate-filled eyes and spoke
    “You’re not worth my time, Bounty Hunter. Now die here with all the rest!” With that he lashed out with his spiked tail, smashing into the metal of the station’s walls and breaking through effortlessly. Then he was gone, with the hatchling.
     
    I cursed, exiting the storage area and intent on catching up with the giant dragon, intent on retrieving the Metroid. Then my suits’ internal warning system came to life and informed me that he had triggered the entire station for overload, essentially causing a self-destruct. Cursing even more I sprinted through the corridor, passing the gargantuan machine where the now-deceased scientists had studied the Metroid hatchling and up the stairs, becoming more and more aware of the blaring klaxons and deteriorating station all around me. Bursts of steam from overworked conduits were shooting out almost everywhere and even the structural integrity of the lab began to crumble. I cursed a third time.
     
    I became acutely aware of just how bad the situation was when I entered the service elevator shaft and found the entire station beginning to tilt haphazardly from one direction to another, the stabilizers that once controlled it seeming have given out. Without thinking I launched myself onto the elevator, all too aware of the timer that was counting down the seconds until the entire station detonated.
     
    With mere minutes left to spare I darted from one end of the airlock to where my ship still remained, luckily Ridley hadn’t seen fit to tamper with it before he left. Lacking the time to interface with Ceres’ docking system I simply fired my ship’s weapons, destroying the docking clamps and freeing my ship to escape from the station’s hull.
     
    The countdown had hit ten seconds remaining when I fired my boosters to their maximum, forcing me back in my seat as my ship shot out of the station’s interior. Seconds later a massive shockwave washed over me, sending the ship into mad spirals as shrapnel and energy washed over it. Being in control this time I managed to steadily guide the ship away from the worst of the concussive force and avoid the deadly shrapnel that was being scattered by the massive explosion.
     
    At last the explosion was over, and while my ship had taken a few blows from the shrapnel, it remained intact. With no time to think of anything else I immediately brought up my scanners and set them to the longest range possible. Ridley was out here somewhere, he’d likely had a ship stashed on Ceres just as I had…so all I had to do was pick up his heat signature and trace his path.
     
    It was a full five minutes before I was far enough out of range of the still smoldering ruins of Ceres and my scanners were able to pick up a rapidly moving heat source. I smiled grimly. Ridley. I had the computer run a course trace on his heat signature while I moved back into the belly of the ship, using the precious few hours I had left before I caught up with the Space Pirate to run various combat simulations. I had faced Ridley before, and it had almost cost me my life, I refused to allow that to happen again.
     
    It was approximately one hour later (and roughly 20 different combat sims) that I was broken out of focus by the rapid beeping of my navcom. It had determined his path, and with luck I could cut him off before he made it there.
     
    I made my way to the bridge, moving slowly as I had to with my power armor on.
    “May as well get used to it” I thought to myself. “After all, you’re going to be in it for quite a bit longer.” It was unlikely that Ridley would go down easily, and even he did, it was doubtful he had acted alone. Had the remnants of the Space Pirates rallied under Ridley’s flag? That was a distinct possibility.
     
    Entering the bridge I checked the navcom results. Unable to believe them I ran a second check myself. The proof was undeniable.
     
    He was going to where it all began. To the place where the Metroid’s had first entered my life.
     
    He was going to Planet Zebes.
     
    And I was going to follow him.
     
     
    Word Count: 2,086
  18. Janus

    Quite A Team

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE 2.0 (1) 
    Lame name, I know. It was either that or the overused and terrible "Fire and Ice"
     
    Anyhow, this was spawned by boredom and by the fact that my fight scenes are always attrocious, so I tried this.
     
    It's not really that great, but it's something. It may have been better if I wasn't ill all day.
     
     
    Word Count: 1,169
     
    Enjoy.
     

     

    Quite a Team 
    “This cannot be good”
    The words escaped the warrior’s mouth before he had a chance to stop them. Mentally he ran over the facts in his mind.
     
    Fact one: He was trapped on a lava flow
    Fact two: He was a Toa of ice
    Fact three: Things were about to heat up quite a bit.
     
    The warrior known as Kopaka grunted as his Golden Kanohi Akaku’s telescopic lens shifted and brought into focus the incoming threat.
     
    A warrior near-identical to himself, but clad in crimson and amber was bearing down on his position with immense speed. Riding a spit of volcanic rock atop the crest of a massive wave of Lava, the Toa of fire was closing with speed.
     
    Kopaka stood entirely still, allowing Tahu to close the distance. He had calculated that if he allowed the Toa to make it all the way to his position, then the Toa of fire would have the advantage in this bout. Something Kopaka simply could not accept. The Toa of ice shifted his masks’ long range vision to Tahu’s eyes, angry red coals that eternally burned from behind his own Golden Kanohi Hau. Kopaka wanted to see the look on his face.
     
    With a single elegant motion the Toa of ice had drawn his blade and gently touched the tip to the raging stream of lava all about him. The effect was instantaneous; the quickly flowing molten rock began to harden and cool rapidly as ice overtook the immense heat. Spreading quickly like some infectious disease, the ice crystals made their way up the crested wave that Tahu was riding.
     
    Kopaka got a single glance at the Toa of Fire’s surprised eyes before the red Toa was sent hurtling ungracefully through the air. The Toa of ice grinned, he had ensured that the ice would be enough to hold the lava flow for a brief moment—brief enough to freeze the wave, but allow Tahu to maintain his trajectory—and speed.
     
    The moment passed, the frozen flow began to crack and split as angry rivers of fire began to emerge from underneath it, with a single resounding crack the weakened ice split, the pieces that remained being quickly devoured by the hungry lava. Kopaka ran over the calculations in his head one final time before watching the stream of lava rush towards him with renewed intensity.
     
    He was quite aware that his own spit of land would never hold against such a furious wave of molten rock and so had been running plans in his head while the lava was frozen. As the wave crested and built, rushing towards him, Kopaka leapt from the blackened ground beneath his feet and focusing his elemental energy downwards, created a slick slide of ice that he rode until he reached a large circular area of volcanic rock—roughly ten steps away from the calming lava flow.
     
    No sooner had he landed than a growl met his ear.
    “That wasn’t very nice, Kopaka” the Toa of fire muttered. Flames erupted all about him, their heat intense and the smell acrid. Acting in a moment of instinct Kopaka released his elemental energy in all directions, freezing the massive flames into an enclosure of ice stalagmites.
     
    A sudden crack drew his attention and he whirled to face his opponent…but found no one there. He paused, listening, thinking he heard a footstep he struck blindly, swinging his sword behind him to catch the intruder. Instead he found his blade burrowed deep within the ice. Reluctantly he let go of the hilt, wary of using precious time and effort to struggle with his encased sword.
     
    He didn’t have time to react. Too late he felt the shattered fragments of ice bouncing off his armor, too late he felt the intense heat from the Toa’s elemental energy, and too late he felt the sharp blade of the ruby hued blade pressing into his side.
     
    “Match.” Kopaka spoke simply. Raising his hands in a gesture of defeat he turned to face the crimson Toa and found himself looking directly into Tahu’s eyes. He seemed to be smiling.
    “You’ve taught me well, Kopaka” Tahu said, putting his hand on the Toa of ice’s shoulder.
    “You’ve been an excellent student, Tahu” Kopaka said with a small smile, then he retrieved his blade with a mighty heave.
    “And now I am to be the student”
     
    He had hardly spoken before he felt the first impact. Tahu’s fire sword slashing downwards upon his upraised shield—he had reacted instinctively.
     
    Pushing forwards to knock the Toa of fire off balance, Kopaka swung his own blade in a downwards arc, watching carefully as Tahu’s Kanohi Hau automatically activated and prevented the blade’s descent.
     
    Reacting quickly Kopaka drew back for another strike and, tracking Tahu’s eyes, found his attention completely focused on the blade.
    “Perfect” Kopaka murmured to himself, and with a torque of his body he thrust his shield into the side of Tahu’s head, knocking the Toa to the ground.
     
    Flames sprung to life around the fallen Toa, preventing Kopaka from accessing him further, but rather than calculate and wait he instead activated his own Kanohi Akaku, tracking Tahu’s form through the burning flames and thick smoke. Satisified he hurtled his shield through the fire, watching it strike the Toa in his midsection, doubling him over. Then the Toa of ice launched himself through the flames and into a second ring of fire, his blade arcing downwards.
     
    Sparks of metal flew as Tahu’s own fire sword parried the strike, though down the Toa of fire was not yet out. Tahu launched a vicious kick at Kopaka’s own midsection, but the Toa of ice nimbly sidestepped it, nearly tripping over his own shield in the process. Mind working rapidly, Kopaka kicked the shield towards Tahu, watching as the barrier field of the Hau was activated. In the split seconds that his shield attempted to penetrate the protective barrier of the shield, Kopaka focused his elemental energy around him, freezing the roaring flames as he had before.
     
    Tahu grunted
    “The same trick won’t work twice, Kopaka!” he said, the barrier fading as the Toa of fire launched himself forward in attack. Kopaka remained focused on the ice around him, his sword raised to parry, but his eyes closed in concentration.
     
    All at once the ring of ice split into thousands of fragments that hurtled towards the Toa of fire, unable to have forseen such an attack the barrier sputtered to life too late, already hundreds of razor sharp crystals had struck the Toa of fire and brought him to his knees, his chin resting lightly upon the tip of Kopaka’s blade.
     
    “Good match” Tahu said breathlessly raising his sword in salute of the Toa of ice.
    Kopaka simply smiled and helped the Toa of fire to his feet, reflecting on the irony of the two most diametrically opposed Toa secretly teaching each other.
     
    Then again, he thought with a smile, Fire and Ice together made quite a team.
     
     
  19. Janus

    Zero Hour

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE! 2.0 (3) 
    I was going to write a part two to Days of Future past (You better believe I have ideas for the Phantoka and Mistika), but was unable to because of time constraints. Maybe tomorrow, we'll have to see.
     
    In the mean time, I enjoyed this, it was a nice little distraction from everything else.
     
    Wordcount: 652
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    Zero Hour 
    “Ten”
     
    The countdown started. In my head I went over the past 24 hours rapidly, remembering all I had managed to accomplish in those last short hours.
     
    “Nine”
     
    Those now time-lost hours were quite possibly the last time I would spend on earth. Selected as I had been for the top-secret colonization project I had been training and preparing for over ten years—and it was all culminating on this night. I had naturally celebrated like a king.
     
    “Eight”
     
    I had wined and dined the finest of women, spent money like it was going out of style (And while it wasn’t, I very much doubted that dollars would be in plentiful supply on the moon. We’d need to find some other sort of money-substitute), and had more than enough to drink. Luckily I was in a project that really was the heart of everything scientific. A glass of water and a hangover pill and I was good as new.
     
    “Seven”
     
    I double checked the consoles all around me, barely paying attention to the readouts. I knew the computer would handle most of the difficult stuff, I was really just along for the ride until we made it into orbit. Only then would I actually get to do something worthwhile.
     
    “Six”
     
    I allowed my thoughts to drift to the hazy memories of last night. There had been women, that much I remembered. Some sort of expensive food…lobster maybe? Normally I wouldn’t have been so blasé about blowing such a huge chunk of change, but frankly it was on the government’s dime. And they owed me.
     
    “Five”
     
    I felt a shiver of excitement run up my spine. Partially out for the fact that soon the rocket engines would kick in and I’d be forced into my chair as an immense weight settled upon me—and then I’d be in the stars. Partially because I was remember some of what went on, and some of it wasn’t as hazy. A smile crept to my lips.
     
    “Four”
     
    All things considered, I felt I spent my last few hours on earth quite well, after all, as my friends used to say “Any night you can’t remember is a night worth living.” Of course I always thought it was rather silly if you couldn’t remember anything. I made sure to maintain some memory of what went on—otherwise what was the point?
     
    “Three”
     
    I gave the readouts another cursory glance as thoughts floated tepidly through my mind. Something was nagging me, but it didn’t hold much force. At least not as much force as the joke that had been bandied about by us ‘colonizers.’ That we’d have a nightclub and bar up and running within a week.
     
    “Two”
     
    With that grin-worthy thought out of the quagmire of my mind I was able to think slightly more clearly. Of course all that really did was give added urgency to the stray thought that I was unable to remember. I wracked my brain, mentally reading through everything I had done and was supposed to do. What was that thought that was dancing out of reach?
     
    “One”
     
    I closed my eyes, forcing myself to think. Inside my head I saw images of the past week I’d spent on earth. Women, elaborate clubs, gorgeous swimming pools, intense sports, and of course large bills…all of these things and more flashed before my eyes. Still that thought remained infuriatingly indistinct, like a word on the tip of my tongue. So close yet not there.
     
    “Zero”
     
    I felt the rocket boosters ignite, felt the intense pressure force me into my comfortable seat. I even vaguely noticed the ships’ computer taking over and controlling the various readouts. Finally the thought clicked smoothly into place, as thought the force of impact had knocked it loose.
     
    As I sped away from earth and to my destination amongst the stars I remembered.
     
    I had a casserole in the oven.
     
  20. Janus

    The Joy Of Painkillers

    By Janus,

    (19)
     
    Late. I know.
     
    My plan was actually to have this when I woke up this morning, y'know, a little early morning writing.
     
    There was one flaw in that little plan--I didn't wake up this morning.
     
    AND SO HERE IT IS.
     
    With luck I will have another up tonight, because I try not to suck.
     
    This is based on a true story, and yes, it was revolting.
     
    Word count: 819
     
    Enjoy! (I sure did, eventually)
     

     

    The Joy of Painkillers 
    Grey clouds rolled in... turning the previously blue sky overcast. I frowned but remained outside, safely under the cover of the large fabric awning above me.
     
    In my right cheek there was still a pulsing pain, one that had almost driven met to tears less than ten minutes ago...but now I held what I hoped was my temporary cure.
     
    I glanced back inside the dentist's office, waving curtly as I began to walk around the shopping complex--I didn't exactly want to stand outside their door the whole time. I mean, how dumb would that look?
     
    And so I set off, walking without any real purpose. It had been years...and I do mean years, since I had set foot anywhere near here. Unfortunately for me, though the outer shell had barely changed, the innards of everything was completely different. It was a bit of a shock returning to a place of my childhood and finding--well, no childhood remaining.
     
    All the while I was walking I could still feel the packages rustling around in my pocket. The dentist had given me four of the things, along with some prescriptions... I had hoped I wouldn't have to use them, but my tooth...or rather, my gum had decided otherwise. I felt the pain emanate from my cheek, felt the swollen gum pulse and spasm and though it stung I allowed myself to ride it through. Then, as soon as it was complete I immediately drew out my cell phone and called my ride--I had to wait about 35 minutes for pickup.
     
    Oh the smile I had on my face. If smiles were upside down, and involved glaring...and looked more like you were angry.
     
    And so my hopes were dashed, my hopes that I would be able to eat a lovely lunch with my delightful painkillers--that way I would avoid that disgusting little "Vitamin" taste, the one that clings to the back of your throat.
     
    However I had come to a point where I could no longer make that allowance. I needed pain relief before I tore out my tooth manually.
     
    With cold and clumsy fingers I reached for one of the packets, small and square and coloured in blue. The plastic rattled as I removed it from my pocket, and continued to crackle as I hastily tore it open. Inside were two blue capsules, oblong shapes with "ADVIL" stamped into the side.
     
    They looked like a bizarre form of candy.
     
    Following the instructions listed on the back I popped one into my mouth--and then my brain simply ceased working. I do not know what it was that compelled me to do this, friends, I do not know.
     
    You see, somehow as soon as the capsule entered my mouth I chomped down. I guess I was hungrier than I thought.
     
    The response was instantaneous: After an almost audible crack, the most vile fluid I have ever tasted flowed out across my mouth, coating my tongue and the inside of my mouth in a disgusting viscous film.
     
    The taste was...indescribable. It was a cross between a large amount of pepper, and some unknowable thing. It was spicy and pungent, it was the most disgusting thing I have ever had the misfortune to taste.
     
    I coughed once, twice, three times. Tears sprang to my eyes and my stomach churned as that vile liquid coated my mouth. All thoughts of walking around fled and I quickly made myself back to the dentist's office, getting there as quick as possible in order to prevent myself from losing the control I had over my churning stomach.
     
    Of course, as is the way with the world, as soon as I entered the dentist's office both of the two[/i] secretaries were busy with other people...just chatting. I didn't particularly feel like interrupting them, however and so I sat quietly in the corner with that sickening fluid burning my mouth.
     
    Then I felt it, some sort of growth on my upper gum, it was semi-solid and stuck to my gums. I panicked. I knew that taking vitamins or painkillers or various other things the wrong way could cause problems, but swelling of this magnitude in one place? It seemed wrong.
     
    And so it was. I prodded it with my tongue curiously and found not engorged flesh, but the slowly melting remains of my painkiller, stuck like glue to my mouth. I almost laughed.
     
    And that's when it occurred to me that I could no longer feel the blossoms of pain that came from my tooth. Though it was the most sickening experience I'd ever had...though I had taken it wrong, though I'd had to suffer through a taste more horrible than I care to remember: It. Had. Worked.
     
    I sat back in my seat, still tasting the vile fluid in my mouth and no longer caring. My tooth no longer hurt.
     
    Bliss.
     
  21. Janus

    Great Big Sea

    By Janus,

    Is amazing.
     
    Seriously.
     
    If you can listen to songs like Lucky Me, Let it Go, Love, and Something Beautiful and not feel happy with life--there is something severely wrong.
     
    Look beyond the cut for my favourite bits of each song.
     

     
    Lucky Me
     
    Who would have thought for a moment
    She'd have to grow up so fast
    The school beauty queen with a child at sixteen
    Swore that her fortunes had passed
     
    But blessings can hide in the strangest disguise
    And I know she would agree
    As long as the river still runs to the sea
    Hey lucky you, lucky me.
     
    Hey lucky you,
    Lucky me.
     
    Let it go
     
    Hey man
    There's no time for crying now
    You've made your bed
    but you don't think it's fit to lie in
     
    You're wasted on the ground
    when you know you should be flying
    What are you waiting for?
     
    Love
     
    How many more of our children have to fall
    And just how high do we have to build these walls
    In fighting there's no dignity
    it's such a waste of time
     
    Take my hand
    I don't think god will mind
     
    Something Beautiful
     
    The years'll make us older
    The winters make us colder
     
    And there's one more thing I've come to know for sure
     
    There's no bitterness that smoulders
    No chip on any shoulder
     
    That a random act of kindness can't cure.
  22. Janus

    Painkillers

    By Janus,

    A Swollen Wisdom Tooth!
    Sounds uncomfortable, no, sounds like a lot of pain!
     
    But here in our little town of White Rock, British Columbia
    You might say every one of us has a swollen wisdom tooth...
    But I'm only speaking metaphorically
     
    It's not easy having a sensitive, bleeding mass of muscle in your mouth..
    But, there it is!
     
    White Rock is home to many strange dentists. A big swollen, puffy gum...you may wonder, how does he deal with it?
     
    That, I can answer in one word: Painkillers!
     
    Painkillers, Painkillers
    Painkillers!
     
    Painkillers, painkillers
    Painkillers!
     
     
    So, yeah. That's where I've been this week.
     
    FOR SCIENCE! Returns Monday, with a story about...Painkillers!
     
    If you know what the above tune is, I love you. If you know me and know specifically what the above tune is, I love you more. Like, tons.
     
    CI YU MONDAY.
     
    Love,
     
    Janobert
     
     
  23. Janus

    Aquarion

    By Janus,

    I dare you to find me a more beautiful song.
     
    NOTE: This is taken soley from fansubs and may be incorrect--frankly I don't care because this version rocks the socks anyhow.
     
    Sousei No Aquarion - Akino (Op version)
     
    On that day the world began, under the tree of life
    The two of us heard the distant reverberation of whales singing
    Where do I wander off to now, embracing...
    In my arms all the things I have lost and loved?
     
    The answer lurks within the amber sun
    Had I not met it, I would have been able to remain an angel of destruction
    The soul which holds the twinkle of immortality...don't be hurt, my wings
    For I was born to learn this feeling
     
    For two and ten thousand years, I've loved you
    As eight thousand years passed, I yearned for you even more
    Though two thousand and a hundred million years may pass, I will still love you
    From the day I learned of you, the music has not ceased in my suffering
  24. Janus

    And Mortals

    By Janus,

    (11)
     
    Gah, this took way too long and was way too forced at points.
     
    But it's done. There, you have part two.
     
    I'm going to curl up and die in a corner now (That means sleep, mmkay?)
     
    Word count: 1,040
     
    Enjoy!
     

     

    And Mortals 
    Sam and his new ‘companion’ arrived home, having decided that it would be best to retire for the day. Or rather, Sam felt compelled to leave the rapidly darkening park and without consciously willing it began to stand up and walk through the near-empty streets.
    “Was that you?” He thought, wondering if his newfound compatriot would be able to hear him.
    “Of course it was” Came the near instantaneous response. “It’s not particularly hard to control you, Sam. You’re just bits of flesh connected to muscle.”
    Sam frowned but said nothing, instead concentrating on resisting his muscle impulses…just to see if he could resist the ‘God’s’ power.
     
    His legs continued to pump mindlessly and his steps never missed a beat.
    “Nice try” Came the dark humor of the voice. Sam bit his tongue in response, thinking about what he could possibly do—and the first thing he felt was to get information.
    “At least give me a name to curse, then” he mused.
    “I have none to give, mortal. I was given none” the voice responded. Sam’s face crinkled into a frown and his mind raced—in all of the reading he had done, he’d never heard of nameless Gods, in fact every God seemed to have a name and be at least semi-well known by the humans of the era.
     
    “And why do you think that is, Sam?” The voice murmured questioningly. Sam paused.
    “Because….Gods make themselves known to humans so that they might influence their world? Like you’re doing with me?”
     
    Dark laughter echoed all around Sam’s head as the voice chuckled maliciously.
    “No Sam, you’ve got it all backwards. Gods influence the world for only two reasons: To prolong their existence or to exact revenge.”
    “…And which are you here for?” Sam asked, the question sounding tremulous even within his own mind.
    “Neither.” The voice replied simply. “I’m here to benefit my parents.”
     
    The voice fell silent for the rest of the walk, simply steering the body to where it wanted it to go. Sam, likewise, remained quiet and ceased his efforts to regain control of his body, simply attempting to stop his racing mind from overwhelming him.
     
    At last they arrived at Sam’s home, and, upon entering promptly collapsed on the nearest chair. Though exhausted, Sam immediately felt a presence in his home and warily looked over—the child from the park was back.
    “It seems my experiment was successful” the boy said in his rich, dark voice.
    “You…left?” Sam asked hopefully.
    “Not entirely.” The boy said with a smile. “I’m still there, I’ve simply allowed some of my essence out.”
     
    Sam sighed.
    “Tell me again about this, please. Explain it to me, after all if you’re going to be inhabiting my body it seems only fair.” The boy paused for a moment, averting his eyes downward. Then with a sudden movement he stared unblinkingly into Sam’s own eyes.
    “Very well, mortal.” He softly growled. “It really is quite simple…the world of Gods is very different from the world of mortals—whereas everything here is bound in physical form, the world of Gods is unconstrained energy. Unfortunately that means that in order to access this realm we must also bind ourselves in physical form.” Sam nodded, his mind racing to keep up, but not wanting the boy to stop.
    “However this binding gives us limited time and once said time has elapsed we’re immediately snapped back through into our own world—naturally the process is quite painful and some of our energy doesn’t make it back.”
    “…And using me you won’t get snapped back?” Sam murmured, faltering slightly.
    “I never said that” The boy said with a wide grin. “All I said is that using you I’m able to stay here longer—for all I know you could come to the world of Gods with me…”
     
    Immediately Sam’s eyes lit up and his mind began to fill with imagery from the many books he’d read. Massive mountains and pillars of ornate stone, gorgeous scenery and Gods milling in and out of temples erected in their honor. He smiled.
    “Not quite” The boy said flatly, interrupting Sam’s reverie.
    “Not only is it not like that…they wouldn’t be particularly happy to see you”
    “Why?” Sam said, perplexed. “I haven’t done anything to them.” The boy smirked.
    “Not you personally, no. But Gods and mortals do not get along…very few Gods enjoy spending time with their creators.”
    “Creators?” Sam said, quirking an eyebrow.
    “Yes.” The boy said. “Legends, myths. The creation of Gods, the more belief the Gods get the more powerful they get—as their believers fall the less power they have and the more they fall from grace. You mortals are responsible for the creation and decay of every God.”
     
    Sam fell silent for a moment, simply allowing everything that he had learned to sift through his brain. Naturally none of his reading had prepared him for anything even close to this.
    “Then how do you have any power?” He finally asked, unsure.
    “Because I was born while my parents were at the height of their power and in the front of worshippers minds…but shortly after the entire structure folded—far too early for any child to join the Myth.” The boy smiled slightly.
    “But that means…”
    “Yes, Sam. That means that I’m not constrained by you mortals. I don’t have to worry about your belief in me.”
    “Then why are you here?” Sam asked, mystified. Who was this mysterious God and what did he want?
    “I want what any child wants, I want to help my parents.” The boy smiled widely and vanished again, simply ceasing to be in Sam’s eyes. Then he again heard that insidious voice in his head.
    “Gods of War, you see. So you’re going to help me out, Sam. Together we’re going to cause absolute mayhem…and when the streets run with blood then my parents will be revived. Sound like fun?” Sam said nothing, finding his jaw unable to move. He thought a variety of curses but almost nothing coherent, he was scared now.
    “Like I said, Sam. You and I are going to be getting to know each other quite well. Now let’s hurry…we have plenty of work to do.”
     
  25. Janus

    Enter The Gurlfren

    By Janus,

    FOR SCIENCE! (7) 
    Yes, yes. It has taken me far too long to get back into FOR SCIENCE! But the past is past, let's move on with the future, yes?
     
    Good.
     
    Truth be told, I don't actually feel that bad because I still wrote. Those of you who've seen my Streams of Conciousness entry know that, but I also spent most of yesterday writing a 7 page MONSTER of a story--those of you wondering why it's not going on here...well, let's just say it's not exactly BZP appropriate, and only those who know me well enough to know where I lurk and what I like will be allowed to see it. If they even want to.
     
    NINJA EDIT:
     
    I realized upon reflection today that "If they even want to" looks like me being a sobby whiney preteen angsting about how nobody wants to read my stories. NOT EVEN MY FRIENDS MY LIFE IS SO HAAAARD.
     
    That wasn't my intent, I more meant to say that it deals with subject matter that not everyone who knows me wants to read about. Let's just say it's a Slash.
     
    Yes, I've written a slash. I'm unsure if this will attract or repulse fangirls
     
    Regardless, with such a long break I believe it's time for a refresher on the rules of FOR SCIENCE! So here we go.
     
    Every day I will write 2,000 words on any subject of my choice, throughout the week I will collect various suggestions for what I should write about on Friday. Votes will be opened on Thursday in an entry prior to my story and the winner will be the subject of my 4,000 word story on Friday.
     
    We up to speed?
     
    Now, in order to be fair I feel that I should include the two suggestions from days of old (Or a few weeks ago)
     
    bio djinnie: Also, how about a story involving Furbies, Death-rays, and an ancient orginization of ninjas?
     
    Bossman: Write a 4,000 word essay on the topic of your choosing without using a single pronoun.
     
    And now on with the story! (of questionable quality!)
     
    Enjoy!
     

    Enter The Gurlfren 
    “Incoming!” My friend shouted as the red blip lit up my radar screen. Panicking I pressed down hard on the control panel and watched as my Mobile Suit just barely avoided the crimson flash of energy.
    “That was way too close…” I muttered to myself, re-aligning myself to better glimpse the fierce battle going on all around me.
     
    The mission was simple—or was supposed to be. We, as two Zeon soldiers were meant to attack the AEUG’s primary ship, the Argama, as well as an escape shuttle they had. Well, the shuttle had gone down quickly under a barrage of fire from my own Gaza-C class Mobile Suit, and my friend’s own Gaza-C was able to begin intercepting the lone defending suits they sent out, nothing more than some Nemo’s.
     
    Unfortunately now things weren’t going exactly as we had hoped. The ]Argama had defenses superior to what we had expected, and worse yet, they had an Ace Pilot who was piloting the brand new state-of-the-art suit the Rick Dias. Barely dodging another shot I saw my radar light up with even more red blips, indicating more enemies entering the conflict. Just great.
     
    “Cover me” My friend said calmly, his Gaza-C’s verniers lighting up with bright blue flames as he streaked towards the Argama and its rapidly firing cannons. Nodding mutely I selected a Nemo as my target and double-checked my battery charge for my laser cannon. 2 shots remained on this battery—that should be just enough for a Nemo.
     
    Taking careful aim I fired: Once, twice, and….contact! Brilliant red flames burst from the wrecked suit, drifting slowly in the cold vacuum of space before exploding in a flash of light. One target down I selected the next, another Nemo that was using its boosters to great effect, dodging and weaving around and forcing me to be quick with the controls of my own suit.
     
    “We’re running out of time!” My friend shouted as he began to engage the Ace in the Rick Dias, I could see that he was right, my mission timer counting down rapidly in the corner of my viewscreen. We had exactly 1:30 left to scuttle the Argama and her defenses…and that Ace pilot wasn’t making it any easier.
     
    Lost in reverie I was woken rudely as two blasts smashed hard into my Gaza-C, bringing my critical warnings up on screen. I hoped I was going to be able to make it of this situation alive. Taking aim I fired with my replenished laser cannon, piercing the Nemo’s cockpit directly and turning the suit into a flaming ball of wreckage. Giving my radar a cursory glance I discovered that only one hostile suit remained—the Rick Dias.
     
    Firing my verniers I launched myself into the conflict, targeting and firing on the Dias as it weaved about the space fighting fiercely to protect the Argama. I could see that the battle had taken its toll on all of us, the Dias’ reaction time was slower than before, and bright blue sparks of light leapt from its body in multiple place—likewise my friend’s Gaza-C was showing the same signs of damage, and of course I barely needed to look at my critical warnings to know that my own suit was heavily damaged.
    “Look out!” I shouted as a blast from the Dias rocketed towards my friend’s Gaza-C. There was no way he would be able to survive a direct hit like that. Firing madly from my laser cannon I fired my boosters and launched myself towards the Dias. Unfortunately it happened to be firing its own lasers at that time.
     
    “######, I’m dead” I muttered to my friend, watching as my suit floated lifelessly in space, sparks leaping across its shattered body.
    “Yeah, me too” He grunted
    “Again?” I asked, watching as the mission failure screen appeared on my PSP “ZEON IS DISSAPOINTED IN YOU” it read. Great, glad to know.
    “Yeah, may as well. She doesn’t land for another few minutes. Plus customs. We’ve got a bit” he said, glancing at the flight times on the screen above.
    “Sweet” I grinned. “But shouldn’t we move closer over there, so we can actually see her when she lands?” I said, nudging my friend. With a groan he stood up and stretched, his silver PSP catching the light shining down from above.
     
    Grinning I stood up, carefully replacing my own PSP in my pocket and glancing at the screen above. Two more minutes for her flight to land. I couldn’t wait.
    “Oh, she’s going to call when she’s landed” I said offhandedly, taking my usual large strides towards the central area of the airport where everyone was waiting on semi-comfortable padded chairs.
    “That’s good, that way she won’t walk in on us playing Gundam. What a way to welcome her to Vancouver, huh?” He said, laughing.
    “Yeah, and given that she’s not much of a Gundam fan…” my train of thought trailed off. I didn’t think she’d be upset, but I still wasn’t sure.
    “Well, regardless, I’m going to be stealing you at least a bit so we can beat this stupid mission” he said grimly. I laughed at this and continued to walk, finding a pair of unoccupied chairs away from the incredibly cold wind blowing in through the automatic doors.
    “If she has a problem, she can take it out on me” He said with a laugh, seating himself.
    “She can, yes.” I began slowly, powering up my PSP again “But she’ll likely take it out on me. With her fists” My friend merely raised an eyebrow in response, powering up his PSP as well.
    “You go select the mission this time, I’ll use one of my powerful suits” He said, eyes still glued to the opening screen of Gundam Battle Universe
    “Sure.” I murmured, my eyes on my own screen.
     
    It was another five minutes before the call came, just as I was being pelted by the enemy suits (of course), my phone began to vibrate erratically in my pocket. I quickly grabbed it and flipped it open.
    “Hay” I said, watching my suit take many point-blank shots.
    “Hey” she responded, sounding both tired and excited. “We’ve landed and I’m in the line for customs, it’s not that bad of a line, so I should see you soon.”
    “Cool, I can’t wait” I said with a smile. “My friend is here as well, we’re watching for you but in the off chance we don’t see you, you’ll probably recognize us.”
    My friend looked up from his PSP, his Sazabi having destroyed everything on the screen and won the mission.
    “Say hello for me too” He said offhandedly. I nodded and passed along his greeting
    “Say hello back for me!” She said, sounding happy. “I’ll see you in, like, fifteen minutes!”
    “Kay” I responded, then, grinning maliciously said “We’ll be the ones playing on our PSPs”
    “….What?” She sounded slightly confused.
    “To recognize us. All you need to do is look for the two grown men playing PSP”
    “Oh goody” she said, laying on false sarcasm thickly. “See you soon”
    “Definitely. Love you” I said quietly, holding the phone to my ear.
    “Love you too” She murmured, then the line went quiet.
     
    “She’ll be out in about fifteen minutes” I spoke to my friend, dragging his attention away from the upgrades he was doling out.
    “Got it. Fifteen more minutes to play” He said with a boyish grin, I returned his grin and looked to my own upgrade screen.
    “At least.”
     
    It was approximately fifteen minutes (along with multiple wins, and deaths) later that she actually walked through the automatic doors. After my head snapped up from the PSP for the thousandth-and-first time I was finally able to say
    “There she is! For real this time!” completely oblivious to the fact that I was in fact being murdered most viciously by the Marasai swarming all around my poor Gerbera Tetra. My friend (under equal assault from various different aces) looked up as well and we both shared a glance that said “I won’t say we were getting our butts kicked if you won’t” and then turned off our respective games, moving to meet her at the exit of the walkway.
     
    “Hey gurlfren” I said with a grin, hugging her tight.
    “Hey gaifren” she responded, gripping me in an equally tight hug. After a few seconds we broke the hug and she said hello to our mutual friend and we were on our way….for all of ten seconds, before the first of many mock-arguments broke out.
     
    “Aren’t you going to carry my luggage?” She said with mock impatience, indicating her wheeled bag.
    “I thought you were a big enough girl to carry it yourself” I grinned back.
    “Dude, you’re going to be sleeping outside” my friend murmured ahead of me.
     
    After a resolution had been worked out (and by resolution I mean she frowned at me until I took the bag, feeling terribly guilty and horrible) we walked out the automatic doors into the nice chill wind—and of course rain.
    “It’s freezing!” She whispered, shoving her hands in her pockets. I just laughed, clad only in a T-shirt and light jacket (AND PANTS OF COURSE. JEESE). Then again, I was used to the cold weather…she most certainly wasn’t. But being the kind gent I am I naturally offered to warm her hands up, and being the wonderful lady she is, she accepted.
     
    Then she yelled that my hands were freezing—setting off another laughing session from me (with my friend joining in so we could make it in stereo!). Of course her mock-anger was perfectly justified as my hands were indeed blocks of ice—that’s just naturally how they get, I guess.
     
    All mock-fights and freezing cold forgotten (Or mostly forgotten, she was still shivering like a leaf) we loaded ourselves into my friend’s car, where both of them began to berate me on not yet being able to drive.
     
    Of course I reminded them that I could drive, there was just the minor technicality of it being legal driving. This was met with groans and disapproving stares. And then we were off, our adventure in the airport complete it was time to set out onto the open road.
     
    She stared out the window, drinking in the beauty that was the city, and being quite shocked at the amount of snow (“Real snow!”) still left on the roads—luckily by this time it had stopped snowing otherwise the adventure would have been far more ‘interesting’ than it was.
     
    The miles ticked by, and various comments were made by both my friend and my lovely lady. My favourite of which being a passing comment about a large temple:
    “Is that a giant bouncy castle?”
    “…I think it’s a temple”
    “…Does it have a bouncy castle inside of it?”
    I squeezed her hand and smiled, showing how much I adored her. This conversation naturally dovetailed into a discussion about how much better temples would be if they contained bouncy castles, but as it is religious in nature (What with the temples and all) it is hereby stricken from the record.
     
    We drove on, passing various different buildings and landmarks, until my friend said what would spark a great adventure.
    “…Um, can you get us back to your house from here?”
    “…I think so, yeah. Go straight for now” I responded, wracking my brain. I knew how to get back from a certain point but we were well outside that point, time to see if I knew what I was doing.
     
    Ironically it was well inside the area that I knew well that our adventure occurred. Driving up an incline we found ourselves on one side of a two lane highway, with one lane curving away into the darkness. My friend asked which way and I responded (Foolishly)
    “Go straight”.
     
    He did.
     
    We took the curved path and drove in a straight line for some time, finally coming a tiny little spit of land that led to a tinier spit of land in America. We quickly turned around and drove back, ending that little adventure.
     
    Naturally all of this was filled with conversation of the most wonderful sort, and me making googly eyes at my lovely gurlfren, but really, did you need to know that?
     
    I didn’t think so, that’s why I wasted so much time talking about Gundam.
     
    Which, by the way, is way less cool than my Gurlfren.
     
    Yeah, you read that right.
     
    <3
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